The Substitute
by BajaB
Summary: The magical contract made by the Goblet of Fire inadvertently sets underway events that change everything you thought you knew about the boy-who-lived. AU GOF, depressing and a bit dark.
1. An Awakening

_A/N: This will be a multichapter story, but there won't be many of them. My usual thanks to the guys at AFC for helping flesh out this idea, and a special thanks to Perspicacity and ZanyMuggle for the encouragement and help._

_I may have subconsciously borrowed the basic premise from "Loyalty Unto Disgrace" __(__net/s/2565609/35/Odd_Ideas__) by Rorschach's Blot. Thanks to eleanorw2001 for pointing that out._

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and all related materials are the property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury and Warner Brothers. I am in no way affiliated with JKR, Bloomsbury or Warner Brothers, and use their materials without their permission or knowledge.

#

The Goblet of Fire glowed weakly as Harry silently approached it.

He couldn't explain what compelled him to go secretly hunting for it in the middle of the night under his invisibility cloak, or how he found it tucked away in the side room, awaiting return to wherever they stored it between tournaments, but the dastardly object now sat several feet away, mocking him with its feeble light.

Dumbledore said it would not relight until the start of the next Tournament, but it didn't look completely dead yet. Then again, Dumbledore called Hogwarts the safest place for Harry besides the Dursleys, but that didn't stop his name from mysteriously appearing as the fourth champion in a contest that regularly killed or incapacitated the best adult students three schools could offer.

"I hate you," Harry told the cup, dropping his cloak. "You've cursed me, ruined my life – not that it was anything great to begin with, but you and your stupid game have cost me one of my best friends and everything I hoped for this year.

"I thought it would all be different after last year, that I'd be able to spend the holidays with somebody who actually liked me, and the rest of my time here with Ron and Hermione, without having to worry about people trying to kill me or everybody being scared of me. It was meant to be a good year, even if Sirius is still on the run. I was going to have some fun and maybe learn a bit more about my parents when I stayed with him, but you've buggered that up now, haven't you?"

The cup made no sign of acknowledging Harry's accusations.

"Why did you do it? Why did you suddenly decide to go and stuff up my life, eh?" he said angrily, taking a step closer. "Did somebody make you do it? Did somebody somehow force you into dumping on me like this? Or was it all your idea, a fine joke to play the boy-who-lived?

"Answer me, damn it!" he yelled, immense anger boiling his blood. "Don't just sit there ignoring me. You bloody well owe me an explanation!"

The cup grew slightly brighter, but nothing else happened, spiking Harry's rage even further. He stepped closer and swung at the unresponsive magical object; his anger overcoming any reservations he may once have had at taking his frustration out on an object.

"I said answer me!" he screamed, pushing his open palm with all of his might.

The moment his flesh touched the metal, multicoloured, cold fire erupted from the mouth of the vessel, but Harry's slap still knocked it off the table and onto the floor. The heatless flames spilled out in a torrent as Harry leapt backwards in fear. They quickly spread and grew until almost reaching the roof high above.

Bony hands suddenly clenched Harry's shoulders, painfully dragging him backwards, away from the flames. Harry instinctively fought to get free, but the grip was too strong. He twisted his head back and caught a glimpse of Albus Dumbledore's fierce face before he was roughly tossed aside into the arms of Severus Snape.

"Stand back!" shouted Dumbledore, his voice rising above the roar of the flames as he raised his wand.

Before Snape could even begin to move, the flames suddenly changed direction and withdrew inwards in a noiseless implosion. Air rushed to fill in the empty space, making Harry gasp, just as pain erupted in his scar.

Worse than anything he had felt during one of his dreams, it was like something was tugging on his forehead, trying to pull itself towards him using his brain as an anchor.

Screaming, Harry's knees gave way and he slumped in the potion professor's grip. He felt blood leaking into his eyes, and then the flames returned, bursting outward at twice the speed they had retreated.

The shockwave nearly knocked them from their feet. Only the lightning fast wand work of Dumbledore protected them from the force that tore through the room, destroying carpets and drapes in an inferno. A blinding white light overrode Harry's bloodshot sight, leaving him blinking and unable to see for a few seconds, while the pain in his forehead disappeared without warning.

A gasp from Snape as his vision cleared echoed through the room. In the exact centre, just in front of the now inert cup, stood a group of people. It was two boys, a girl, a man, and a woman, all of them somehow strikingly similar, and disconcertingly familiar.

Harry couldn't think, his mind struggling to understand what he was seeing while at the same time refusing to accept it.

"I'm hallucinating," he thought, but Snape's next words, spoken even as Harry constructed his thought, swept even that idea from his mind, especially as they coincided with the Headmaster's own uncharacteristic outburst.

"Lily," said Snape in a whisper.

"James?" asked Dumbledore.

Harry didn't even notice that Snape was no longer attempting to keep him upright as the last vestiges of consciousness fled like the shadows created by the extinguished magical flames.

#

The soft murmur of whispers intruded on the pleasant numbness of his mind, like the start of an itch that would quickly be forgotten, if only you could stop thinking about it. Minutes passed as the annoying hissing grew either louder or more insistent, but either way, more intrusive.

Eventually, it caused sluggish synapses to warm up and consciousness clawed its way out of the comforting, all enveloping whiteness.

Harry woke.

The familiar arctic white ceiling of the infirmary greeted his eyes, its stark bleakness a mirror to Harry's own thoughts. The curious blankness remained as Harry listened to the voices drifting in from another part of the room, and his memory slowly returned.

"You listen to me, Albus Dumbledore," snapped the school nurse loudly. "I don't care what nonsense excuse you are giving, but that boy is staying right where he is and will not be disturbed until I say he is good an ready."

Several voices competed to argue, but Madam Pomfrey was having none of it.

"Out!" she said. "All of you out, right now. I have patients to care for."

Arguing continued, but Harry lost interest. Slowly he turned his head to take in his surroundings. The curtains around his bed were open, giving him a clear view of the rest of the ward. All except one other of the beds were empty; the sole exception was right next to him.

Harry's friend, Neville, lay on the bed, his face and hands covered in painful looking blisters. A sheen of green goo covered every visible surface of the boy who lay propped up on several cushions, eyes open, watching Harry.

"Hello Nev," whispered Harry. "What happened to you?"

"Hiya, Harry," Neville replied quietly. "Potions. Somebody threw something into my cauldron, again. Luckily it was only me that got hit this time."

Harry smiled, bemused by the poor lad's constant misfortune.

"Next time you ought to try aiming for Malfoy," he said. "Make it worthwhile."

Neville smiled nervously, obviously thinking about something else, but not brave enough to talk about it. Harry watched him for a few moments, trying to decide if he should prompt him, or let him get to it on his own. Curiosity won out over patience.

"What's up?" asked Harry.

"Is it true? What they're saying? About your mum and dad, and, you know, the others," he asked, leaning forward excitedly.

"I dunno," said Harry, some of the disassociation leaving him. "What are they saying?"

"Mr Longbottom!" snapped Madam Pomfrey. "I told you go back to sleep, not to disturb Mr-, the other patients."

Neville mumbled apologies and settled back into his cushions.

"Now," said Madam Pomfrey, turning to Harry. "Let's have a look at you, then."

She bustled around Harry, waving her wand and casting spells Harry didn't recognise. She poked and prodded, and poured potions down Harry's throat, but somehow managed to avoid looking into his eyes.

"Well you appear to be in perfect health," she said, after twenty minutes that left Harry fully awake and no longer dreamy at all.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"An excellent question," said Dumbledore, suddenly appearing behind the nurse. "Can I now assume Mr Potter is fit enough to leave?"

Pomfrey creased her brow in annoyance, and sighed loudly. "Physically he is fine, but-"

"Thank you, Poppy," said Dumbledore, cutting her off. "Harry, let us move to my office, where we might continue this conversation."

Harry nodded and slid off the bed to close the curtains and get changed. Just before stepping out to join the headmaster, he stuck his head through a gap to where Neville lay.

"Catch you later?" he said.

Neville nodded and grinned at him.

They made the walk through the empty halls to the headmaster's office in silence. Harry was surprised to see it was night time, meaning he must have been out of it for a least a whole day.

"Take a seat," said Dumbledore, gesturing to an empty chair on the near side of his huge desk.

Harry took a moment to look around, finding everything exactly the same as when he had last been in the office, only Fawkes was missing.

"What can you recall," asked Dumbledore, after offering Harry one of the sour sweets he kept in a bowl on the corner of his desk.

"I hit the Goblet of Fire, it sort of exploded, you pulled me back, then I saw ghosts," said Harry. "At least I think they were ghosts, of my parents, but there were other people there too."

Dumbledore watched Harry quietly.

"Sir, how long was I out?" asked Harry, unable to stand the silence any longer.

"A little over three days," answered the Headmaster sadly.

Shocked, Harry didn't know what to say.

"Harry, when you attacked the Goblet, as foolish and rash an action as I have ever had the misfortune to witness, something extraordinary occurred, and revelations have been made that have profound repercussions."

For the first time since waking, Harry felt a glimmer of emotion.

"They weren't ghosts, were they?" he asked nervously.

"No, my dear boy," answered the headmaster.

"Are they alive? Are they still here?" he managed to ask, despite the huge lump in his throat threatening to choke him.

"They are not currently at Hogwarts, but yes, they are still here."

"How?"

It was all he could manage without allowing an overwhelming flood of emotion drown him. He was scared, and hopeful, and sad, and happy, and a thousand other things, all at the same time.

Dumbledore removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly, suddenly looking a lot older and frailer than Harry had ever seen him.

"Harry, I have a long story to tell you, and most of it, sadly, is going to be extremely painful for you, but I ask you to listen and hear out the whole tale."

Harry nodded numbly.

"Before you were born, I was privileged and burdened to hear a prophecy of the coming of a child who would vanquish Voldemort; I will not trouble you with the exact wording. Suffice to say, I believed two children could fit the profile. I passed on my suspicions to the parents of both children, and recommended they all go into hiding.

"Lily and James Potter acted on my suggestion, and as you know, placed their home under the Fidelus charm with Peter Pettigrew as the secret keeper. That however, is not the only precaution they took.

"The Potters were both incredibly talented individuals, possibly the smartest and most powerful of their generation, and together their combined abilities made them formidable indeed. Knowing even the Fidelus charm could be broken, they constructed a secret room in their house. I understand some Muggles build similar places in their homes to hide in - A 'panic room' I understand they call it.

"Inside that room, they recreated one of the most complex spells ever developed; a spell thought lost for all time. Working with hundred years of research notes gathered together from every corner of the magical world, they built a gate into a magically constructed world, a paradise where they could hide, if needed, for as long as required.

"However, that amazing spell, sometimes called the Door into Avalon, was not their most impressive achievement.

"Realising Voldemort and his followers would not stop searching the house if they expected to find the family at home, Lily and James embarked on another even more formidable, and infinitely more dangerous, project.

"Using their own blood, and that of their newborn son, the Potters created complex constructs in their own image; Golems, made of flesh and blood. The two adult Golems were built able to follow only simple patterns; one would appear to try and fight to protect the other two, while the second would plead for the life of the smallest.

"The smallest, the Golem made in the image of Harry Potter, was an entirely different matter.

"In this construct, they poured tremendous amounts of magical power, and weaved a tapestry of protective charms into its very being. Nothing short of the killing curse could hope to damage the substitute baby, and even that was to have disastrous consequences for the caster, as indeed it did."

"A booby trap," said Harry.

"Indeed, a very clever and formidable trap, one that Voldemort fell to, but the Potters made a mistake in their calculations, and the backlash from the destruction of the Dark Lord partially destroyed the house. The damage closed off the gateway, trapping them in Avalon.

"And the baby Golem, the booby trap, was not destroyed."

"Me," said Harry, a cold fear gripping his insides. "I'm that Golem."

Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed."

Harry felt sick. His stomach twisted in knots and threatened to empty itself, while his heart raced and his head spun.

"How?" he asked weakly. "And why didn't they come back? Couldn't they have built a new gate or something?"

"I can only speculate on how you were not destroyed by the killing curse, but I am afraid much blame must be laid at my own feet for trapping the Potters in their personal paradise, despite the charms they put in place to protect against such an occurrence.

"When I discovered the magic at Godric's Hollow, I misunderstood its nature. Lily wisely placed a failsafe charm on the Golem that would retrieve them, twenty four hours after its destruction, regardless of the state of the gateway in the house. By bending the spell I believed Lily created to protect you, and transferring it your aunt, I inadvertently prevented them from returning. "

"I didn't die," said Harry. "So the magic stayed active, through Aunt Petunia."

Dumbledore nodded.

"We failed to investigate the house properly, leaving it as it was, untouched, as a tribute to a family we thought destroyed. Had we repaired the house, we would have found and cleared the gateway, allowing the Potters to return through the door they left by. "

Harry's head spun faster, and his stomach felt even weaker.

"I can't be a Golem," he said, his panic rising. "I'd know if I was, wouldn't I? I mean, Golems aren't human, they don't have souls. I have a soul, don't I?"

"Indeed, you do have a soul, otherwise the Dementors would not affect you so," said Dumbledore.

"But Golems don't have souls," said Harry. "Did I grow one or something?"

"It is a mystery," said Dumbledore.

He appeared to want to let it slide at that, but Harry wasn't buying, not today.

"You know something, don't you?" he said angrily. "You've got an idea about it. Tell me. Tell me what's going on."

If Dumbledore was taken aback by Harry's sudden aggression, he didn't show it all.

"I have a theory, that I would like to investigate before I talk-"

"No," interrupted Harry. "Tell me now. I've got a right to know. I mean, I don't know what I am. My whole life has just been ripped from me – I'm not even human. I've got a right to know what you think I am. Tell me. Please."

Dumbledore let out a sigh and seemed to deflate a bit.

"Harry, I am afraid if I air my suspicions, you will gain no comfort from them," he said.

"No comfort?" laughed Harry bitterly. "I've just discovered that I really am the freak my supposed family called me my whole life, that I never did and never will have a father or mother, and that I am just a lump of meat animated by magic. What could you possibly tell me that could make that worse? "

"You are more than simply a Golem-"

"Why? How? Tell me," demanded Harry. "Do I have a soul, or are you just saying that to make me feel better?"

"I have no doubt you do," said Dumbledore.

"Where did it come from?" asked Harry.

Still Dumbledore hesitated.

And then the answer came to Harry, like a lightning bolt.

"Voldemort," he said, his hand unconsciously going to the scar on his forehead. "You said he left a little bit of himself behind, in me. It's his soul, isn't it?"

Dumbledore deflated even further, seeming to sink into his chair.

"Yes," said the headmaster. "I believe he previously split his soul, in a misguided attempt to become immortal. When his killing curse backfired, it shattered him further, and a piece stuck, as it were, inside of you."

Harry slumped back down into his chair, his head ringing hollowly with the headmaster's words.

"Oh, bugger," he said.

They sat for moments longer, Harry trying vainly to comprehend everything he had heard, the headmaster waiting patiently to resume his tale.

Eventually, Harry realised he had more questions that he needed answered.

"So, what happened with the Goblet?" he asked. "How did it get involved?"

"The magical contract enacted by the Goblet when your name was drawn created a link to the Potters in Avalon. Lily and James were able to use the connection to create a new gateway. Unfortunately, it relied on using a lot of your magic to make it stable enough to cross unharmed."

"They're back?" asked Harry. "They're alive, after all of this time? How did they live there for so long? Are they okay?"

"I have spoken extensively with them over the last few days while you were unconscious, and they are all in the best of health."

"All?" said Harry, catching the unusual wording.

Then the memory became clearer. Two boys and a girl stood next to Lily and James Potter.

"Oh, Merlin," said Harry. "He is alive isn't he, the real Harry Potter, and he has come back, and he has a brother, and a sister. Oh sweet Merlin."

And with that, the shock finally became too much, and the Golem known to the world as Harry Potter fell from his chair.

#

Days later, Harry sat on a rock overlooking the Lake. He was meant to be in class, but it hardly mattered anymore. Nobody was going to come looking for him, nobody cared if he went or not.

Never in his life had Harry ever experienced anything as bitter-sweet as finally meeting his 'family'. Not even watching Sirius fly away on Buckbeak mere hours after they met made Harry as happy and as sad as finding the mother and father he always longed for were alive and well.

Unfortunately, neither of them considered him their son.

They were strangers who felt nothing towards him, aside from a rather embarrassing responsibility and some serious awkwardness. The real Harry Potter had never left their side, and had a younger brother and sister to boot. Adopting a thing that bore a remarkable resemblance to their real son was not something that came easily to anybody, and they obviously had some concerns about Golem-Harry's stability, since he was originally designed as a weapon of sorts.

There was a moment when Harry hoped they might look at him as a long-lost son and brother, a missing piece of their family that needed to be brought back into the fold, but the instance was fleeting, and his hopes dashed even before they could develop beyond a day-dream.

Rita-skeeter broke the story, even before Harry himself learnt the truth.

While he still lay in a hospital bed, she penned a front page article, telling of the miraculous return of the Potter family and their brilliant ploy that resulted in the downfall of Voldemort. The idea that their fall-guy Golem didn't die, and went on to become a glory-seeking attention hog, fit in so neatly with the previous articles printed after his name came out of the Goblet, that Rita was instantly nominated for a journalism award.

Even with the testimony of a living breathing James Potter, Sirius was still on the run, being hunted as a fugitive and wanted for a never ending string of ridiculous crimes, like breaking out of the prison he was wrongfully incarcerated in. James, reunited with Remus Lupin, was supposedly dedicating the majority of his time to clearing Sirius's name.

Harry had no doubt the trio were already together and probably on the trail of Pettigrew.

Lily was spending most of her time rebuilding the home at Godric's hollow, which was in a serious state of disrepair, and catching up with old friends. She was doing most of the work on the house herself apparently, saving the money in the Potters' reclaimed vault for more urgent matters that may arise, and to live on until they secured jobs. Harry's incredibly uncomfortable meetings with her left him in no doubt that she found his presence every bit as awkward as he feared, and possibly used the restoration of Godric's Hollow as a way to avoid the situation with him.

The three Potter children were left in a bit of a limbo, all of them surprisingly sorted into Hufflepuff, but not yet actually required to attend classes, due to their unique circumstances. That simple event, a private interview with the battered old Sorting hat, combined with the selection of Cedric as the real Tri-wizard champion, cemented the Badgers as the new gold standard of student at Hogwarts, completely destroying the myth that only the leftovers went to that house.

The rest of the school shunned Harry, calling him Golem when they talked about him, building on the resentment they already harboured after his name came from the Goblet to treat him like an unwanted object most of the time. It didn't help much that the real Harry Potter was a nice bloke, quickly becoming popular, as was his sister, Chloris.

Real-Harry was tall and healthy, looking even more like James than Golem-Harry, since he had never suffered starvation or malnutrition. With the good looks of his father, and his mother's startling green eyes, Harry Potter made the girls swoon just by walking past. He was also very talented magically, having been trained by James and Lily almost from birth.

Yet, for all of that, he came across as level headed and friendly, not at all the pampered prince somebody like Snape expected. His dedication to hard work made him almost the perfect Hufflepuff, although there was little doubt in anybody's mind he could easily fit in any of the other houses. The fact he liked a good laugh and wasn't adverse to the odd practical joke was just icing on the cake.

Chloris also had the raven hair of their father and wore it long, in the style of her mother. She was blessed with Lily's green eyes and temperament, and although only two years younger than Harry, presented herself like a much older girl. Of all the Potter children, she alone treated Golem-Harry no different to a real person, talking to him the same way she talked to everybody.

Like her siblings, there was something a little odd in her social interactions, something that often left her seeming awkward or left out, but she compensated with great politeness and a truly inquisitive nature. Golem-Harry figured much of this was because she grew up surrounded by Golems; the Avalon enchantment not containing any other sentient creatures. James and Lily created many Golems, out of every material available, and continuously experimented in perfecting them to act as playmates, guardians, and toys for their children.

They did not come close to ever making anything as 'real' as Golem Harry though, and never made another flesh Golem at all.

Jim Potter, however, was a different kettle of fish completely. Although Chloris's twin, and favouring the same dark hair and green eyes as the others, Jim rarely spoke and never went out of his way to interact with anybody. In their two or three meetings to date, Jim had yet to say a single word to Golem-Harry, or many other people for that matter. There was often the hint of a mischievous glint in the boy's eye, and his mouth was usually quirked in smile that could only be from a private joke, but he was by far the most restrained of the trio and displayed even more of that same oddness they all carried about them.

Chloris told stories about Jim's surprisingly nasty practical jokes, and gave Harry the distinct impression he favoured James Potter in temperament more than either of the other two.

They might not be perfect, but they were as close as Golem-Harry could possibly wish for as family, if only it were possible to get over the fact he was a Golem.

"Harry?"

The sound of his name being spoken startled Harry out of his musing. Hermione stood a few feet behind him, her hands nervously holding a sandwich in front of her.

"Hello, Hermione," said Harry quietly. "Shouldn't you be in class?"

Since the argument with Ron, and with the dramatic appearance of the Potters, there had been very little chance for Harry to talk to Hermione outside of class, and even less inside, when he bothered to show up.

"I thought, well, I was worried when you didn't come to transfiguration," she said, shifting from foot to foot. "And you didn't come to lunch, so I brought you something to eat."

"Why should I go?" asked Harry. "It's not like it'll do me any good, or didn't you hear? I can't ever get my O.W.L.s. You know they want to take my wand off me?"

Hermione covered her shock-opened mouth with one hand.

"They say I can't have it because only humans are allowed to carry wands," said Harry bitterly.

"That is just ridiculous," said Hermione angrily.

"My whole life is ridiculous," said Harry. "Just one long joke really. I always wondered why it sucked to be me so badly, now I finally know."

"Harry-"

"You can't call me that anymore," he interrupted. "Gets too confusing."

"Harry," insisted Hermione stubbornly," You can't just give up. You have to take a stand and show them how foolish they are all being."

"No, I don't," said Harry. "It doesn't make any difference what I do, so why bother? I'm just a Golem that has outlived its usefulness - a freak of magic."

"Stop that, right now," she said, stamping her foot. "You are still the same person you were before this all happened. You are the same person who tackled a troll to save my life-"

"Ron knocked it out. I just stuck my wand up its nose."

"And you are the same person who went down into the Chamber of Secrets to rescue Ginny-"

"Fawkes saved us both, not me, and Ron was with me then too, right up to the end bit anyway."

"And you are the same person who risked his life last year to free a man who was going to be executed for a crime he didn't commit, so just stop all this nonsense right now, or I'll hex you!"

Harry laughed. He couldn't help it. The image of an indignant Hermione hexing him into a messy puddle for his own good was just too perfect.

"Go, ahead," he said. "I bet you won't even get into trouble for it. I reckon Malfoy could use an unforgivable on me and not even lose points for it, since I'm not human."

Hermione hesitated a moment while his laughter became more manic, but soon it dissolved into sobbing, and she rushed forward to wrap her arms around him, offering what little comfort she could. Her own silent tears joined his as she whispered meaningless words of encouragement and held him tightly, trying to be strong, but unable to avoid weeping for the pain of her closest friend.

"It'll be all right, Harry," she said.

"How?" he asked. "How can it ever be all right? I'm nothing – I've got nobody-"

"You've got me," she said quickly. "Don't forget Neville, Hagrid, and Ginny – they've been asking about you."

Harry held her silently, the overwhelming grief slowly ebbing away, but he noticed the absence of his former best friend in the short list.

"And don't forget professor Dumbledore," Hermione added.

Harry pain turned to anger again and he pulled away.

"Don't talk to me about him," he snapped. "It's all his fault."

"Harry!"

"It's true, you ask him. He buggered everything, changing Lily's spell and messing it up. If he hadn't played around where he wasn't meant to, none of this would have happened."

"And you would probably be dead!"

"So what?" asked Harry peevishly. "Would have been better off that way, instead of me having to go through hell for a dozen years -it would have all been over before it started."

"Stop that right now," said Hermione. "I, for one, am glad I got to make such a good friend, even if he is feeling a bit sorry for himself right now. I'm sure lots of people, including Professor Dumbledore and that other blockhead, feel the same way. Once everything calms down, we'll figure something out for you, you'll see. If it comes down to it, I'm sure you could even come and live with me. We have extra rooms in our house, and I'm sure my parents would put you up for a while, if you needed it, but Professor Dumbledore won't just throw you out on the street-"

Harry laughed bitterly, again.

"Oh I'm not worried about _where_ I am going to live," he said, surprising Hermione. "That's the last thing on my mind, since there is a damn good chance I won't have to worry about that ever again."

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.

"Didn't you hear?" Harry asked. "A lot of people are very interested in me, now. They want to experiment on me and see how I tick. Apparently there is a possibility that magic like mine might hold the key to whole new areas of research, including ways to heal people who have been kissed by Dementors, since they are not meant to have a soul anymore. Only problem is, their experiments might not leave me in any sort of shape for doing any normal things, you know, like breathing."

"Professor Dumbledore won't let them," protested Hermione.

"He can't stop them," said Harry. "The best he could do is stall them for a while, otherwise I'd already be in a lab somewhere getting sliced and diced."

"So he has gained some time, then, to figure out a way to stop them? That's good, isn't it?"

"Oh yeah," said Harry. "Real good. You see the only way he could stop the Auror's carting me off straight away is a real dozy.

"Seems there is this pesky little tournament thing that has a magical contract built into it, and unless they want to force the suddenly-returned-to-life, underage, real Harry Potter to compete, the nasty little Golem that shares the bond has to take his place.

"I still have to take part in the tournament, Hermione. Even with all the crud going on around me, I still have to compete in the bloody tournament, but as soon as it's over, unless Dumbledore pulls something a bit better than a rabbit out of his hat, I'll get carted off to the Department of Mysteries, and somehow, I doubt if you'll ever see me ever again."

"That's not right," said Hermione, her eyes filling with tears again. "It's just not right."

"No it's not," said another voice behind them.

Both teenagers leaped to their feet clumsily, startled by the unexpected visitor. Harry even fumbled for his wand before he got a clear look at the people standing calmly behind them.

Jim Potter, younger brother of the real Harry Potter, and his twin sister Chloris, stood patiently, and obviously unworried by the sudden moves made by Harry and Hermione.

Even more than the others, there was something decidedly odd about the youngest Potter boy, something that made him appear years older than his size and features. Something not quite surly or dour, but infinitely more serious than anything any twelve year old should have inside of him. Looking at him for any length of time was like seeing a full moon in the dead of night – the brilliant white light harshly banishing the stars from the sky and bathing familiar landscapes in an unnatural glow.

The sister was almost the opposite. Full of sunshine and light, only the startling intelligence in her eyes betrayed her image, showing there was much more to the girl than a happy, well adjusted teenager, although she still had many unusual mannerisms, probably from a lack of social interaction with other children.

"What?" said Harry, struggling to wipe his eyes.

"We agree," said Chloris. "It's not right, and we have an idea of how to fix it."

"What?" asked Harry again, finally having managed to get his wand out of his pocket.

"How?" asked Hermione at the same time.

"You are going to have to prove that you are more than just a Golem," said Jim. "You need to stand out and be seen as a person. You need to become popular and well known, not as the boy-who-lived, but as a real person, despite your origins. If you can get beyond people's current perception of you as just a thing, Dumbledore will be able to sway the government into granting you wizard status."

"Oh, that'll be easy," said Harry sarcastically. "I'll just nip out and kiss a few babies then, shall I?"

"Not yet," said Chloris, casually sitting down on the rock recently vacated by Harry and Hermione. She managed to make it look like a princess seating herself demurely on a gilded throne. "You are going to do something much more dramatic.

"You are going to win the Tri-wizard Tournament, and we are going to help you."


	2. A Desperate Hope

_A/N - Reviews, messages, suggestions and comments on the last chapter were all appreciated. In response, I have buckled to pressure and included more background information in this chapter than I would normally, but I won't try to explain everything. I once again owe a lot of thanks to the guys at AFC for the help making this readable. _

* * *

The days leading up to the tournament saw Harry working harder than ever before. He realised that he was previously just skating through school, not really concerned about doing more than the minimum needed to get decent grades, but now, that had to change.

He knew he wasn't as bright as many in the school, but he also knew could do better, and all it took was hard work, lots of hard work. There could be no more slacking off, not if he was to have any chance.

"I've been telling you that for years," huffed Hermione, when he shared his revelation to her.

Although their reasoning for being so determined to help him was still beyond his understanding,

Jim and Chloris convinced him of their earnestness, and he was grateful for the help. They encouraged him into 16-hour-days of hard practice and study, helping Hermione not only to select what he would most likely find useful, but also explaining things in ways he could understand, since straight book learning wasn't one of his greatest strengths.

The Potter children's choice to stay at Hogwarts while their parents went rebuilding their own lives was an unusual one, as far as Harry was concerned. It didn't make sense to him for the children to be basically abandoned and left almost totally to their own devices in a new, unfamiliar world, but they seemed to be happy about it.

When curiosity got the better of him, and he finally felt familiar enough ask, Chloris's reply didn't really help him understand.

"We have always been fairly independent," she explained. "If we spent every minute of every day together in Avalon, we would have gone mental. Besides, it's not as if we can go anywhere we want, or don't get to see mum and dad every other day when they visit Dumbledore for one of their 'secret' meetings. Otherwise I'd be in Paris or Milan seeing the sites while Harry was touring the world watching Quidditch, and Jim would be off who knows where doing Merlin knows what, although it would probably be illegal."

Thanks to years of extra lessons, including hundreds of Pensieve memories of their parents' Hogwarts classes, the two Potters were beyond fifth year in most of their studies and did not need or desire to join normal classes yet, but the spells they forced Harry to learn and practice were at the very limit of their own abilities, and almost beyond his. Only Harry's stubborn determination, instilled in him during his life before Hogwarts, kept him trying again and again until he succeeded.

The twins' and Hermione's tutoring and encouragement helped, but deep down, they all knew it was Harry driving himself so hard that made progress possible.

Harry quickly discovered Jim tended to lean towards the darker side of magic. Many of the spells and ideas he presented sat right on the border of being classified as Dark magic, and Harry suspected the younger boy was holding back. He wasn't cruel, or even nasty, but was drawn to powerful spells that had the potential to cause truly terrifying damage.

The cool and almost distant facade of the youngest Potter was swept away by enthusiasm when Jim got caught up explaining some aspect or theory behind the Dark Arts, his fascination often becoming infectious.

"He gets it from dad," explained Chloris one day, in one of their rare casual talks. "Dad and his friends always were a bit more inclined towards that sort of thing. Our Harry doesn't go for brute force as much – he's more into well placed, subtler spells, as a rule. A bit more like mum really."

There was much Harry learned about his 'pseudo family' from Chloris, although he still avoided the real Harry and his parents, not understanding his feelings and not willing to be distracted by exploring them further. It was much easier to just ignore the situation, even though Hermione occasionally brought it up and obviously wanted him to talk about it.

She was right there beside him every minute that she wasn't in normal classes. The brilliant Muggle-born witch researched spells and tactics for Harry, digging up every previous tri-wizard challenge and finding the best strategy used to overcome it. She wasn't as good a teacher as Chloris or Jim, who both had extensive experience in being tutored, but managed to master new spells faster than anybody else.

Surprisingly, others also stepped forward to help Harry, despite the majority of the school still hating him for supposedly cheating his entry into the competition, and then turning out to not even be human. The fickle wizarding public also turned their attention to celebrating the new Potter 'heroes', sparing little except hostile or demeaning thoughts for the Golem they previously glorified.

Ginny Weasley was the most determined of Harry's remaining friends, even going as far as hexing anybody who bad mouthed the former hero in her presence, and gaining numerous detentions for her stoic defence, especially when it came to Harry's former best friend.

"I don't care what you are," she told Harry, very loudly. "It was you in the Chamber of Secrets, and it's you I owe my life to. As far as I am concerned, that makes you a better person than most of the gits in this school, including my idiotic brother."

The fact that her parents now seemed concerned about Harry's mental stability, mostly thanks to gossip mongering Rita Skeeter and the Daily Prophet newspaper, did nothing to deter the girl, and she struck up a friendship with Chloris, who everybody liked anyway.

Ron himself was still openly avoiding Golem-Harry, a sentiment returned in spades.

Neville helped when he could, often making himself available as a living target for the less dangerous offensive spells, like Stupefy. He even managed to pick up a few spells himself, including the very useful shield spell Protego, which made him a much better opponent for Harry's training.

"It's not that I mind," said Neville, after being revived yet again during a practice session. "But I think I prefer it when it's my turn to practice Stupefy and you get to dodge and shield."

Most surprisingly of all, it was Harry's first friend in the wizarding world who gave him his biggest break. Hagrid, with the simple act of allowing him to discover the Dragons brought in for the task, removed much of the mystery and fear keeping Harry awake at night.

Not knowing what he faced was, without a doubt, the biggest obstacle he faced, making it impossible to focus on particular areas that were likely to help him survive, and succeed. This meant he needed to touch on many different areas and could not delve deeply into particular branches of magic.

A drastic change in tactics was called for immediately after that discovery.

"You cannot fight a Dragon," said Hermione. "They are simply too strong."

They were in one of the unused classrooms Professor McGonagall gave them permission to use. Hermione and Chloris sat behind desks piled high with books taken from the library, searching through for spells or tactics that would be useful against a Dragon.

Harry stood in the middle of the room, attempting to cast the flame-freeze spell on the blazing fireplace. Jim sat on the floor behind him, correcting and encouraging, while Neville stood to the side feeding the fire with branches magically levitated from a large pile nearby.

"Concentrate, Harry," said Jim. "You need to put more effort into it. Use your emotions."

The magically enhanced fire consumed the wood almost as fast as it was in, but it was still nowhere near as hot as Dragon flame.

"Not quite true," Chloris countered Hermione. "You can fight, but it's highly improbable you can win, at least, not with his current skill level."

"Oh that makes it all better," laughed Harry. "Thanks for clearing that up."

Jim flicked his wand and a tongue of flame licked out at Harry, causing him to jump backwards.

"Hey!" he shouted.

"I said concentrate," said Jim, grinning evilly.

Neville snorted a laugh, but quickly killed it when Harry shot a hurt look at him.

"It's also unlikely that you'll have to defeat it," added Chloris, smiling. "In all of the other tournaments, the first task has been a test of daring, not a test of somebody's ability to kill an animal."

"Of course, the Dragon is the obstacle, but the objective will be something different," said Hermione, her mind racing ahead of everybody else's. "Harry, you said they were nesting mothers, are you sure?"

"Yes," said Harry," definitely. Hagrid looked like he was getting ideas and Charlie Weasley warned him they had the eggs counted."

"An egg then," said Hermione, "or something else, more likely. You'll have to get around the Dragon and get something out of the nest."

"And how do I do that?" asked Harry, lowering his wand. "That's it. I've had enough of this. Let's do some more target practice."

Jim nodded and stood up.

"Harry, can I have a go?" asked Neville hopefully.

"Sure," said Harry, stepping aside. "I'll take a turn with the logs."

"Here," said Hermione.

She concentrated and waved her wand at the pile of logs. One by one, the branches began leaping up and marching slowly towards the fire.

Harry looked at her questioningly.

"It was good practice for you all," she said, correctly interpreting his look, "but you need to improve your aim more."

Jim laughed and moved over to where a trio of ropes hung from an overhead beam. Fat bullseyes hung at the end of them several feet above the floor, each about the size of a Dragon's eye.

Stopping for a moment first to concentrate on the spells needed to send the targets randomly swinging, Jim brought his wand up and began casting.

Harry took his place behind the line on the floor and readied his wand, waiting for the targets to speed up.

"It'll be charmed against simply being summoned," said Hermione thoughtfully.

"You could outfly the Dragon," suggested Chloris. "You're even better than our Harry on a broom, and that's saying something. Maybe you could lure it off the nest and then nick in behind it."

Chloris's comment sent a thrill of pride through Harry. The real Harry Potter's flying ability was quickly becoming legendary in the school, along with just about everything else he put his hand to.

Very few people were as skilled in so many areas of magic as Harry Potter, with only Hermione beating him in the sheer number of subjects he was top or close to top of the class in. Even Snape had to grudgingly concede the real Potter was a true son of his parents, inheriting both of their talents.

The Head of Slytherin also quickly found the returned James and Lily far too formidable to allow him to mistreat the new Harry anywhere near the way he had, and still did, the Golem. The rumour was that half the residents of Hogsmeade heard Lily explaining to Snape what she thought of his attitude, and exactly how she was going to help him fix it. It sounded painful.

Yet, despite his seemingly inordinate abilities, the eldest Potter boy remained friendly and likeable, showing not an ounce of arrogance. He even tried to be friendly to Golem-Harry, but both found it just too weird to be comfortable with.

Malfoy was dying a slow, torturous death as the real Harry Potter became increasingly popular. Even some of the Slytherins were showing favouritism towards the Hufflepuff- the females especially. Draco's one and only attempt to ambush him cost the blonde boy a week in the hospital, a month of detention, fifty house points, and rather a lot of his father's money to avoid charges being laid.

Of course, nothing stopped Draco and the others treating Golem-Harry even worse than before, but the blonde boy rarely said anything while any of the Potter children were within hearing range. They all took offence at anything derogatory Draco said, purposely pretending to believe he was talking about the Real-Harry Potter rather than the Golem, just to have an excuse to retaliate, often embarrassingly so.

"I'm only allowed to take my wand," pointed out Harry, liking Chloris's idea of outflying the Dragon, but not seeing how to pull it off. "I think they'd notice if I had a broom hidden away and just pulled it out."

One of the targets suddenly glowed, and he fired a tickling curse at it, missing by a wide margin.

"I don't suppose there's anything about being a Golem that could help me?" he asked, quickly firing off three more shots as random targets glowed.

Only one hit, letting out a bell-like chime.

"Nothing legal, since you are flesh and blood rather than stone or wood. All those sorts of rituals were classified Dark ages ago," said Jim.

"With good reason," said Chloris.

"Mind you, a case could be made that since you aren't technically human, the law doesn't apply," said Jim.

"No," said Hermione rather forcefully

"What?" asked Harry, startled by her reaction and missing his target again. "Why not?"

"How do you think people are going to feel if they believe you can get away with doing things that are illegal for them to do? You might decide to cast Unforgivables on them, because it's only a life time sentence for humans-"

"I'd never-"

"We know that," said Hermione, "but think about what people like Malfoy would say. You can't do anything that might be used against you later on, once the tournament is over."

"Hermione, there is a good chance that nothing is going to matter once the tournament is over, because I'll be dead!"

"Stop that," she said sharply. "We'll think of something."

"We had quite a few Golems in Avalon," said Chloris, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Mostly made of wood or clay, since they were the easiest materials to work with, but none of them were anything like you."

"You made Golems?" asked Hermione, sounding shocked.

"Not by ourselves," said Chloris. "Mum and Dad did most of the magic. I still don't really know half of what's involved. We used to help with the shaping, and sometimes we'd fix them when bits fell off."

"How were they different?" asked Harry, switching wand hands and spells.

"They were things," said Jim. "Not much better than an animated statue, really. Only the most complicated ones could do more than a couple of dozen things, and even those ones weren't much chop when it came to adapting to circumstances. Dad made a few for duelling practice, but they were dead easy to beat. Mum had a couple that tended the vegi-gardens and things, and there were a few more general helpers that could fetch and carry, that sort of thing."

"That's incredible," said Hermione, obviously in awe. "Nobody has been able to make Golems that sophisticated before. Most are not anywhere near as useful."

"I think mum based them on the magic that goes into photos and paintings," said Chloris. "She is really good at charms, and dead clever. Dad's great at animating them though; transfiguration is his thing."

Harry managed to fluke a couple of hits with his off hand, but soon switched back.

"Ready for a speed up?" asked Jim.

"Sure," said Harry, nodding.

Jim flicked his wand and immediately the targets started moving about twice as fast.

"And she had a lot of time to work on them," added Jim. "Dad kept making the house bigger and adding things to Avalon, but Mum was more interested in keeping things neat and tidy. She told us her first Golem was a wash basket with arms and legs that used to follow dad around the house picking up his clothes when he came home each day. She didn't realise just how messy he was until they got married. "

"I've never heard of anything like that," said Hermione excitedly.

Jim shrugged.

"Most people have house elves for that sort of thing, or just use magic to clean up."

"Don't get her started," warned Harry with a smile. "Hermione's got a thing about house elves."

"Harry!"

He fired off three quick spells and managed to score against one target twice before the glow faded from it.

"Sorry," he laughed and sending her a smile to let her know he was teasing. "It's true."

"But she made –" Hermione began, then suddenly stopped looking at Harry uncertainly.

"She made me before then," he finished for her, "before they went into Avalon."

The twins shared a glance, almost silently conversing with each other before answering. For some reason, Harry suddenly knew they had been told not to talk about the decoys.

"They were special," said Chloris. "Different. They never made anything like them ever again."

"How were they different?" asked Hermione.

The twins looked uncomfortable.

"They were made out of their own flesh and blood," said Harry, pausing in his practice. "It linked them, because of the blood magic. It made the Golems a lot more alive. I'm still linked to Harry, that's how they managed to come back. The Goblet's contract latched onto the link, and they used it to open a doorway."

All three looked at him with various degrees of surprise.

"Dumbledore told me," he explained with a shrug before turning back to the targets.

"They needed to fool Voldemort," said Chloris. "He would have seen straight through a normal Golem. They won't do it again, or tell anybody how it was done, especially not with what happened."

"But it's a fascinating new magic," protested Hermione. "If they shared what they knew with others, they might not need Harry to figure out what happened!"

"The link isn't why they want Harry," said Jim. "It's because of his soul."

"Not my soul," corrected Harry. "Voldemort's soul. He split his soul to become immortal, and the rebounded Killing Curse broke off a bit more. That little bit got stuck inside of me, while the rest floated off to Albania."

"That's horrible!" said Hermione, then realised what she had just said. "I mean-"

Harry and the others laughed.

"It's okay," he said, firing off another shot. "I understand. What kind of a person cuts up his soul?"

"A madman," supplied Chloris.

"Complete nutjob. Brilliant though," said Jim. "In a twisted way."

"Of course, the real problem is, what if I am the only thing keeping him from dying," said Harry, suddenly changing the spell he was casting from an itching hex to the stunning spell.

Despite the hard work, he had not been able to keep his thoughts away from the topic. It almost felt like a relief to talk about it, although he was a bit annoyed to have Jim and Chloris's knowledge of it confirmed. Probably Dumbledore told their parents, and they explained it to the twins, more than likely as a warning.

"That's ridiculous," said Hermione.

"No, it's not," said Jim. "But it does explain why the Ministry is acting the way they are."

"They don't want to admit Voldemort might still be out there," said Chloris. "They want Harry so they can investigate and probably hush it all up."

"Mind you," laughed Harry, "if the general public knew I had a piece of Voldemort inside of me, they'd probably lynch me in a heartbeat."

"Don't laugh!" said Hermione. "It's serious. You can't have a piece of Voldemort inside of you; you're nothing like him."

"Nature versus nurture?" suggested Jim.

"I can't claim to be well nurtured," said Harry, gritting his teeth with the effort of firing off the harder spells as fast as he could.

He was still missing many more than he was hitting, but he was doing much better, so he switched to a potent bludgeoning spell.

"Maybe you got the 'good' bit?" said Chloris.

"Doubt if he had much of that," said Harry, grunting with the effort of casting the new spell, and still missing. "Look, this is all very interesting, but it doesn't help."

"Nope," said Jim. "You're skin and bone, just like the rest of us, although I suspect there might be a bit more to it. You just happen to be the exact same skin and bone as my brother."

"A clone," said Hermione, drawing blank stares from the others. "Forget it. It doesn't matter."

"Harry doesn't seem to have any problems with Charms," said Harry, letting his anger build and then pushing it into the spell, just as Jim was always telling him to do.

The resulting explosion of the wooden target was quite spectacular.

"Good shot," said Jim happily.

"Hey!" shouted Neville. "I did it!"

They all turned to see Neville standing with his arm stuck into the middle of the fierce flames.

"Oh, well done!" said Hermione. "How did you manage it?"

Neville blushed and pulled his arm back out of the fire.

"Yeah, come on Neville," said Jim. "Tell this blockhead how to do it."

Neville shot Harry a concerned look.

Harry smiled encouragingly, genuinely happy to see his friend's skills blossoming.

"Please, Neville," he said. "I can use the help!"

"Well," said Neville quietly, nervously shifting from foot to foot. "I just got scared, really scared, like when Professor Snape is coming towards me in potions, and I just know he is going to yell at me. Then I sort of used it, the way Jim keeps telling Harry to."

The others looked at Neville in surprise.

"Fear," said Jim, with wonder. "Now that has got potential."

#

The noise of the bleacher-packing crowd paled in comparison to the titanic roar of the Hungarian Horntail Dragon facing Harry across the length of the arena. A cruelly spiked tail swept menacingly back and forth behind it, gouging trenches in the hard stone floor. The beast didn't know what was going on, but she felt her nest was threatened, and that was all it took.

Amongst the real eggs, a golden fake reflected the sunlight brightly.

Harry's hands shook in fear and nervousness, but he forced himself to take several more steps into the arena, closing the distance dangerously. The Dragon roared again in warning, but did not move from her position above the eggs, so Harry took another cautious step, slowly shuffling his feet forward as non-threateningly as possible.

He nervously risked a brief glance at the crowd, taking his eyes from the Dragon for barely a moment. The whole school was there, some of them carrying banners supporting Cedric, others booing and laughing, eager to see him fail. He caught a glimpse of the Potters seated next to the Headmaster and other professors, but had no time to make out anything too distinctly before the Dragon grabbed his attention again.

She rushed several steps forward and roared even louder in an intimidating display designed to scare off any would be attackers. It nearly worked.

Harry felt his fear climbing even higher, cold sweat running in a river down his back, and did nothing to stop it. He focussed on it, letting it wash over him and consume almost every portion of his mind. His wand felt pathetically light in his trembling hand, and as useless as a sharp stick against a dinosaur.

A rippling convulsion rolled up the long neck of the beast in a rumbling wave, and Harry quickly flicked his wand in a complex pattern and spoke the words of his spell. All of his fear, all of the sheer terror of the moment, the very emotions that made him unique amongst all previous magical constructs, poured into his wand, fuelling the spell.

Lava-like flames burst from the mouth of the Dragon and rolled towards him, melting solid rock as it came on as fast and inexorably as the Hogwarts Express at full speed. Magic met magic, an invisible spell enveloping the Dragon-conjured flame, changing it as it closed on Harry, draining the heat away in an impressively powerful display of a once common charm.

The resulting wash of cold flame nearly knocked Harry from his feet, its sheer volume pushing against him like a tidal wave of feathers.

Not stopping to admire his small victory, Harry braced himself against the torrent and raised his wand again, casting several spells before the Dragon finished trying to roast him with its breath.

The first spell went on himself and felt as if a glass of cold water was pouring over his head. To the watching crowd, Harry's flame covered silhouette blurred and became indistinct, causing some of them to shriek in morbid excitement. The Disillusionment spell was not true invisibility, and Harry was unable to cast it perfectly, but, with luck, it would fool the Dragon for a precious minute, hopefully making it think the attack turned him to dust.

The next spell should have levitated Harry out of the flame and off to the side, where he could target the Dragon while it was still preoccupied, but the force of the frozen flames was too much for him, and his spell went awry. Instead of floating off gently to the side, Harry flew forward, directly towards the gaping Dragon's maw. It was that same river of flame that saved Harry's life, as moments before he would have impaled himself on the razor sharp teeth, the continuing torrential force of the flames pushed him to the side.

Harry's levitation spell collapsed and he tumbled onto the ground painfully, rolling several feet and losing his wand before coming to a stop. Dazed and bruised from the fall, Harry shook his head and tried to clear his thoughts. It was then that he realised the Dragon had finished its flame and was casting its head about, looking for something else to attack.

The excited screams of the gladiatorial audience made the animal even more nervous, causing it to roar and stamp its feet while it bashed its tail against boulders, pulverising them.

Harry slowly reached out for his wand, hoping to avoid being seen by the enraged creature. His luck held just long enough for him to get the wand into his hand, but then the Dragon caught a whiff of something in the air; a scent that was closer than it should have been.

Knowing his time was up, he didn't wait for the massive head to swivel towards him, but cast his two most powerful spells, taught to him by Jim, a boy who specialised in highly destructive magic.

The first spell tore into the ground under the Dragon's front most leg, blasting the footing away from under it in a fountain of sand and fist-sized rocks. The Dragon stumbled slightly, and Harry's second spell slammed into the other front leg that was now holding the whole front end of the Dragon up.

The bludgeoning curse caught the beast right on the joint, buckling the leg painfully. The Dragon screamed and fell forward, the momentum of the larger rear half of the beast driving it forward into the ground.

Before it finished collapsing, Harry was up and sprinting directly towards the nest.

As he ran, he cast a stream of quick spells. Minor hexes, like the tickling curse, peppered the creature's face randomly, probing for a vulnerable spot like an eye or ear. Occasional stunners, and other slightly more serious spells, also struck out, trying to keep the creature confused and hopefully slow down her rise. Harry wasn't waiting to see the results, he just ran as fast as he could while casting, not even taking the time to aim properly.

This was the most dangerous part of the plan, the spot where it was most likely to fail.

If the Dragon got back to its feet and saw Harry's blurry, spell-casting shape, it could easily crush or burn him. There was little chance he could freeze the flame again without the rush of fear he used before, and even less chance he could shield against the deadly tail. It would have been so much easier if he hadn't drawn the Horntail, but there was nothing he could have done about that.

The Dragon suddenly bellowed again, but not in anger. One of Harry's spells found a way passed the thick skin, causing her to temporarily forget about anything except the stinging pain.

Harry gave up casting in favour of putting all of his effort and concentration into sprinting the last few feet to the nest. His hands clamped onto the golden egg, but he barely slowed down, continuing on past where the spiked tail was angrily smashing the floor of the stadium into smithereens.

He made it! He was out of immediate danger and closing on one of the exits marked out along the wall. As he crossed the distance, the Dragon handlers rushed out to cast stunners into the unprotected belly of the beast, combining their spells to bring it down before it went on a rampage and destroyed the nest.

Harry gratefully collapsed against the wall of the arena, gasping for breath while grinning so widely his face almost hurt. The whole crowd was cheering and clapping loudly, most of them unable to remain seated due to the excitement his daring dash provided.

The golden egg weighed heavily in his hands, a meagre prize for the preparation and effort involved in getting it. He only hoped it would prove to be worth the trouble.

#

"You were brilliant," said Hermione excitedly. "Easily the best one out of all of them."

Madam Pomfrey finished treating Harry's minor wounds and signalled he could go with a wave of her hand and a grumbled complaint about Dragons and school children that Harry paid no attention to.

Hermione relayed the tale of the other contestants' efforts, taking far too much pleasure in recounting how the French girl, Fleur, nearly got toasted when the Dragon she charmed asleep suddenly snored, belching a huge flame from its nostrils.

All Harry wanted to hear was the scores.

"They can't take any points off for injuring yourself," said Hermione, who was obviously still nervous and tending to babble a bit. "Only Krum was less hurt, and he lost points because his Dragon crushed some of the eggs when he used a conjunctivitis spell to blind it. And Cedric got pretty badly burned when the Dragon chose to go after him and not the really good dog he transfigured, although not quite as badly as Fleur was. And you completed it in the quickest time. Honestly, you just have to get close to full points."

That only Hermione stood with Harry was not an accident. Chloris was unhappy about it, but agreed to keep her and her brother's direct involvement in Harry's training as quiet as possible. Standing with him during the point awarding would draw too much attention to the fact his victory was not a solo effort. Neville and Ginny vocally and openly supported Harry, but also kept their involvement in his training relatively quiet.

It seemed silly to Harry, but Jim assured him it would help his underdog image if it wasn't obvious he was getting lots of help from others. Hermione refused to leave him totally alone though, something Harry found himself inordinately happy about.

Together they walked back to where the judges sat, waiting to present their scores. Immediately, Harry noticed the black expression on Dumbledore's face. He looked, angry, in a way that made Harry terrified. Hermione saw it too, and instantly stopped talking.

The French headmistress went first, raising her wand to draw her score in a thick silver ribbon that hung in the air.

Zero.

Confusion, then fear, clenched Harry's heart as, one by one, the other judges added their own scores, each one twisting a knife point of agony in his gut.

Zero.

Nine.

Zero.

Zero.

Apparently, being a Golem took away any right Harry had to be scored properly, with only Dumbledore bucking the obviously pre-arranged trend to give an undoubtedly fair score.

Hermione was ready to burst with indignation, and some of the crowd started booing the judges, but Harry just shook his head and walked away, too broken by disappointment to even contemplate getting angry.

That would come later.


	3. Momentary Peace

The immediate aftermath of the first task was almost as painful for Harry to handle as discovering his true origin. Leaving Hermione without saying a word, he walked back to the castle, not sure of his destination, but knowing anywhere away from there would be an improvement.

The injustice burned inside, growing with each step, filling every thought. Without realising what he was intending, he made his way into one of the many empty classrooms used for training, and let it all out.

Tables and chairs exploded away from him, splintering and shattering as they flew into each other driven by a wave of uncontrolled magic. The survivors were quickly reduced to kindling by Harry's bare hands angrily hurling and battering them against the walls and floor.

Afterwards he found himself too drained to weep, and too crushed to care.

"You can still win," said an unexpected voice, from the relative safety of the door.

He span around, automatically grabbing his wand and bringing it to bear on the owner of the voice. Harry Potter, the real one, stood, arms crossed, leaning casually against the frame, surveying the carnage. He eyed the wand apprehensively, but didn't step away.

"Only if the others all get crippled, and even then I'll still get zeros while they others will get points for dying well or something," said Golem-Harry. "What do you want?"

Real-Harry shrugged and stepped into the room, pushing the door shut behind him.

"It's not right, what they've done. It's not fair," he said, nudging one of the ruined chairs with his foot. "Nobody deserves that."

"Yeah? Well I'm not a nobody, am I? I'm a something, and everybody figures they can do just whatever they want, don't they?"

"Doesn't make it right," said Real-Harry, righting the broken chair.

He absently fixed it with an almost negligent wave of his wand, and then seated himself, legs stretched out in front.

"What's it to you?" asked Golem-Harry, trying hard not to be impressed by the casual way Real-Harry performed the magic.

"The twins wanted to come and find you, and so did a few other people, but Dumbledore convinced them you needed time alone. I have no idea how he came up with that stupid idea, or what he said to make them agree, but I figured you'd need a bit more than just some head-room. I figured you'd need somebody to come along and rub your face in the fact that all is not lost, since you are probably too worked up to realise it on your own, if you're anything like me, that is."

Golem-Harry snorted and picked up a chair for himself. It took him more than one cast, but eventually the seat looked solid enough to take his weight. Real-Harry waited patiently, not making any comment or display at Golem-Harry's less-than-perfect casting.

"How?" Golem-Harry asked, sitting down on the slightly crooked chair.

The presence of the other boy was having a strange effect on him. He felt calm, but the anger was returning; leeching into his thoughts, despite the fact that Real-Harry was apparently trying to be open and friendly.

Real-Harry leaned forward on his chair, enthusiasm showing in this face.

"Traditionally, the points are almost meaningless. Whoever completes the final task first, and gets the cup, wins. All the points do is give the leading champion an advantage over the others. It might be a head start, the number of items allowed in, or even the number of clues given out, but it is still possible to come from dead last and pull it off."

"Just not very likely, right?"

"It's been done before."

"Yeah right, by a fourth year I suppose?" said Golem-Harry, letting the bitterness slip through.

"After seeing your performance out there, I have no doubt you could be at least as good as a lot of people who have won this before-"

"Why?" snapped Golem-Harry, "because I am meant to be you? Do you really think there is something special about you that means I'm good enough too? Well I've got news for you – growing up in a cupboard and getting beaten every other day has put a bit of a hamper on my magical education. I didn't get to live in a paradise with daily tutoring by two of the smartest magic users in the world, I didn't get to use a wand from the day I could hold one, and I sure as hell didn't get raised believing I'm better than anybody else around my age."

Real-Harry looked surprised at Golem-Harry's sudden outburst.

"Hey, I'm just trying to help," he said.

"Well I didn't ask for your help," said Golem-Harry, standing up. "And Dumbledore was right. Go away."

"No need to get shirty," said Real-Harry, but he stood and left anyway, before Golem-Harry could retort.

His exit left the room feeling just as empty as Harry's insides, with only the annoying embarrassment of knowing he had just acted like an idiot keeping his dark thoughts company.

#

"You wanted to see me?" Golem-Harry asked, after entering the spartan office of the deputy headmistress.

"Mister Potter," said Professor McGonagall automatically, and then suddenly appeared to realise it was possibly not really the right thing to say. "Please take a seat."

Harry took a seat in the chair in front of her large desk and remained silent.

"How are your studies progressing?" she asked. "I have missed you in class."

Harry grunted and kept his true thoughts regarding just how much he really was missed before the first task to himself. He needed people's support, but he didn't have to like them for it.

Things had improved since his run-in with the Dragon, marginally, with many people impressed by his performance and shocked enough at the injustice of his scoring to change their mind about him. Professor McGonagall was apparently one of them, since she had not once approached him about his lack of attendance previously.

Then again, very few people actually approached him about anything, ever. It started on his first day at Hogwarts, with his cursed fame and lack of social skills causing many people to keep away or treat him differently. In second year, the heir of Slytherin fiasco and the unchecked accusations of the gossip mongers gave most of the school a reason to stay away from him, building on the uncertainty and alienation of the previous year.

Third year and being targeted for death by an escaped madman once again gave people a reason to keep their distance. Now, the Tournament and his revelation as a Golem just sealed the deal for the ignorant and superstitious world, providing a convenient justification for their previous unfair treatment as a bonus.

Yep, there was a lot he could say about just how missed he felt, none of it any good.

"Well," he answered instead. "I am obviously concentrating on the practical side of things more than the theory, but I am still picking up a lot."

"Excellent," she said, smiling. "Feel free to bring any questions you have to me. After all, I may not be able to help you with the tournament, but I can assist you with your schooling."

Harry sat quietly again and resisted the urge to ask her if she was meant to be responsible for his well-being too.

"Now, on to the matter I have asked you here for, shall we? As you are probably aware, the Yule ball is fast approaching, and it is traditional for the Champions to attend the ball and open the official dancing with their partners."

He couldn't read the expression on the stern professor's face, but it didn't look encouraging.

"I have been instructed to inform you that you are not required to do so, since you did not put your name in the Goblet," she said.

Harry opened his mouth, and then closed it without speaking. He was about to tell her he knew about the ball and had already asked Ginny Weasley to go with him, but something about the whole situation wasn't right. Why would he be allowed to avoid the potentially embarrassing spectacle?

When he first heard about having to dance in front of the whole school, he was mortified. He would have given almost anything to avoid it. Why would the headmaster allow him to get away from it?

"Sorry, professor," he said," but are you saying I don't have to do the opening dance with the Champions, or that I don't have to attend the ball at all?"

"Both," she answered. "Should you not wish to."

Harry took a moment to sit back and think about it. The answer was obvious.

"They don't want me to go, do they?" he asked. "The other headmasters, and Crouch too I suppose. Nobody wants me to go there and be seen with the others, like an equal or something. That's it, isn't it? They want me to stay away- there's no other reason I would be given a choice, since they can't really force me to stay away, not if Professor Dumbledore is against them."

Professor McGonagall refused to meet his eye.

"Thank you, Professor," he said, standing up abruptly and walking to the door. "If that's all, I'll be leaving now. Oh, and I will be attending the ball with my date. I'll sit with my friends and leave the first dance to the Champions, but I have said I would take somebody, and I am going to. Now, please excuse me as I have a lot to do, like trying to learn how to dance as well as practicing surviving the next task of this stupid tournament I am being forced to compete in, so I can't afford the time to sit around doing nothing. Good day."

"Harry," she called, but he was already through the door and pacing off down the corridor.

As he walked, Harry reflected on the irony of the situation. If they had asked him not to attend the ball right at the start, he might have felt left out, but probably would not have gone, but in typical half-arsed wizarding fashion, they waited, and now he had already asked Ginny to go with him.

No way in hell was he going to let them make him disappoint her. He might not be really human, and definitely was not a real Tri-wizard champion, but he was not going to let them make him into a promise breaker. He said he would take Ginny, and that was what he was going to do.

To hell with everybody else.

#

"It's too strong," complained Harry.

Jim frowned.

"You've got to get into the right frame of mind. You have to want to own it, to utterly control it. It will fight you, unlike the rabbits, but you have to refuse to let it have its own way. Use your emotions against it. Okay?"

Harry nodded and concentrated on the fierce dog inside of the cage. It was a conjured creature they created and not a real animal, making it perfect for spell practice. With typical wizard idiocy, there was no law against casting an unforgivable on an animal, especially not a conjured one.

"_Imperio!_" cast Harry, concentrating on the snarling dog.

He could almost sense the spell lash out and envelop the animal, and definitely felt its anger fight back at him. It was strong, stronger than a normal animal would be, mainly due to its rage. That was the whole reason Jim made it that way, otherwise Harry had no trouble casting the dark spell and making it work.

Their discovery that Harry found it much easier to learn and use those spell's whose nature tended towards the darker aspects of magic was a major breakthrough. Jim himself admitted to a particular fascination with them, but he didn't have anywhere near the same natural ability they found in Harry.

Unnatural ability really, when he thought about it.

Harry knew why. He didn't need to be told it was Voldemort's soul inside of him powering his spells. He didn't need anybody to explain the only thing separating him from other magical constructs, like the Gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's staircase, was the same thing that gave him his magic. He knew. He knew with a certainty that belayed any doubt.

The rage of that knowledge poured into the spell, boosted by the excitement this defiant act of rebellion generated. A tidal wave of emotion overpowered the dog's will.

"Sit," he commanded, mentally picturing an image of a well behaved dog sitting peacefully.

Immediately the small, odd looking dog stopped barking and sat down, a mirror to the image in his mind.

"Well done," said Jim, clapping his hands. "I knew you'd get it."

"Yeah, well, I seem to have a bit of a knack for it, don't I?"

"For sure," agreed Jim. "I tried for months and months, and I had a good book about it I sneaked from Dad's library, but I never managed to control even a bug. Mind you, Dad would slap me purple if he knew I'd even tried."

"Pity I can't use it without making things worse," said Harry.

He vanished the door of the cage, mentally calling the beast to come before him. It loped out and trotted over to sit at his feet, like a fully domesticated and trained dog.

Jim shrugged.

"You might not get the choice, and if it's use a Dark curse or die, I think I'd rather use risk the negative press. Just don't use it on a human and you should be all right, since it's not actually illegal.

"Besides, it'll help with some of the other stuff Hermione wants you to learn, since it's all related," continued. "You've already seen how a lot of the more powerful magic depend on emotion to make them work. Of course, we both know you are really doing it just to spite them."

Harry nodded and leaned over to pat the dog on its head, unable to refute the accusation. The small rabbits they transfigured for him to practice on earlier were still cavorting on the other side of the classroom, performing a dance, possibly a ballet. It was hard to tell, since they were rabbits. With a quick mental nod, he gave the dog an order.

The brute leapt up and threw itself at the troupe, scattering them as it snatched one up in his jaws and tossed it from side to side, brutally snapping its neck. It dropped that one and leapt on another. Within seconds, all four of the conjured rabbits were dead, but the dog kept right on savaging them.

Both boys watched with stunned fascination as the dog ripped and tore.

"That's disgusting," said Hermione from the doorway, making both Harry and Jim jump guiltily.

She made her disapproval of Harry's decision to learn some Dark Arts 'just in case' very clear, and refused to help him with them. She didn't try to stop him, despite still firmly believing it would be eventually used against him. Then again, it was obvious he was not likely going to get a fair chance anyway.

"They weren't real," said Harry quickly. "We conjured them to practice on."

Jim hastily waved his wand and began vanishing everything.

"That hardly matters," said Hermione angrily, closing the door behind her. "I warned you, the Darker the spells you work with, the more acceptable things like that become. According to top authorities on the subject, the magic lures you in, lowering inhibitions and making you delve deeper and deeper into worse and worse things."

Having heard the lecture several times before, they almost knew it by heart, but Harry also knew there were other reasons why people would go down that path, and it had nothing to do with the spells themselves.

"How did you go with your trial run?" he asked, hoping to deflect the witch from her line of thought.

Predictably, her face lit up in barely suppressed excitement.

"Really well," she said, giving both boys a mysterious smile.

Harry had no idea why it took so much work for the girls to get ready for the ball, but he was happy he could avoid having to participate in their 'dress rehearsal'. He shot Jim a worried glance, and found his expression matched by the younger boy.

The plan for Jim to go with Hermione, Neville with Chloris, and Harry with Ginny, so that all of them could attend, was originally Hermione's idea. Only later did Harry find out both Viktor Krum and Ron Weasley had asked her, and both were rejected in favour of sticking with Harry's support group.

Chloris too had been approached by several people, but also turned them down.

It made him feel strange to see just how much the girls supported him, despite his origins.

It was also a sobering thought to realise both boys were more disturbed by Hermione's almost predatory smile than they were by the sight of a savage dog ripping apart rabbits. Possibly it was because deep down they knew there was every chance that, they might soon be the rabbits.

"What about the egg," asked Hermione. "Any luck with it?"

"Nothing yet," said Harry, calling the dog to sit at his feet where he could again pat it. "I'm pretty stuck actually."

"Don't worry, Harry," said Hermione. "We'll figure it out."

"Strange thing is," said Harry, giving his new pet a last, regretful pat. "That doesn't make me feel any better."

With that, he twirled his wand and vanished the dog.

#

He barely recognised the main Hall. Every surface was covered in magical, glittering ice crystals. Giant, glowing snowflakes floated overhead, taking the place of the hundreds of candles that normally lit the room. Massive Christmas trees lines the walls, and the usual house tables were replaced with dozens of round tables that seated eight people comfortably.

He entered the room with Ginny proudly on his arm. She looked quite spectacular in a new green ball gown that matched Harry's dark green dress robes perfectly, and she sported an elegant new hair style that must have taken magic to create. The overall effect of the well matched couple turned quite a few sets of eyes jealously their way.

They lead Neville and Chloris, who also looked like a different person once she donned her dress and complex hair. Neville scrubbed up well too, looking every inch the pure blood noble from an ancient house that he was, rather than the clumsy, slightly overweight boy he normally appeared during the year.

None of them could hold a candle to Jim and Hermione though.

Jim, normally underdressed and somehow almost invisible, stood proud and tall in sleek, obviously expensive dark blue dress robes. His hair, normally long enough not to stand up in an unruly mess even when uncombed, was slicked back so much it made Draco Malfoy's look positively untamed.

There was no mistaking him for anybody except a son of James Potter. Something in his manner, the way he walked and smiled, the casual grace he moved with, call his attention to his heritage, for those who had seen or knew his father.

On his arm, Hermione practically glowed with beauty. The dress she wore must have contained twice as much material as anybody else's, and yet managed to look as soft and elegant as a baby unicorn's mane. The transformation her hair style wrought on her face had Harry doubting it was really her when he first saw them coming down the stairs from the common room.

The stir as the pair made their way to a table rippled through the crowd like a wave on a still lake. In fact, only one couple could be compared to them in terms of how well they looked, and that was hardly surprising.

Of course, Harry Potter and Cho Chang neatly upstaged the champions, entering the ballroom at the last second before Professor Flitwick began announcing the guests of honour. Everybody else was already in place, waiting for the champions, and so had a clear view as Real-Harry and Cho made their entrance.

If the stir caused by Jim and Hermione was a ripple, Harry and Cho caused a tidal wave.

It wasn't that they were particularly better looking or dressed, there was just something electrifying about the couple that made people's hearts flutter, almost like the Veela influence every male in the school was now used to feeling, but still couldn't overcome, whenever Fleur was in sight.

The clapping for the champions' entrance was therefore somewhat subdued, as the crowd were still talking and watching Harry and Cho. It didn't help when Fleur entered last, looking gorgeous, but her date had glazed eyes and was smiling with a look on his face that the women in Hogwarts were all too familiar with.

"Bastard," spat Jim vehemently under his breath. "Did you see how he timed it?"

"Jim," warned Chloris.

"Who, Harry?" asked Neville. "Wasn't he just running late?"

"My brother is never late to anything, ever," said Jim. "It's one of his more annoying attributes."

"Enough," commanded Chloris.

Jim grumbled, but settled down to pay proper attention to his date and table mates, making an extra effort to make up for his earlier snappiness.

The speeches and other formal parts of the opening went off without a hitch, although Harry and a lot of others were openly amused by Dumbledore's continuous correction of Percy Weasley whenever he said three champions instead of four.

"To Harry," Jim said, raising his goblet in a private toast after the official talking concluded. "Win, lose, or draw, nobody can say you didn't make a good go of it."

The rest of the table joined in and, much to Harry's embarrassment, so did a few others nearby who overheard, including Real-Harry and Cho Chang.

They ate, laughed, and joked, Neville somehow managing to order two deserts by sitting in one of the empty places at their table, only to then lose it to Chloris who used a switching spell while he was still crowing about his achievement.

It was the most open and rambunctious Harry had ever seen Neville or the others, and for a few brief hours, he managed to forget about everything and enjoy the night.

The other tables around them were filled with students enjoying themselves. Loud laughter rang throughout the ancient hall, almost totally drowning out the quiet music of the small band.

The loudest tables were those seated nearest the Weasley twins, of course, that Harry noticed were strategically placed as far away from the head and other school tables as possible while still being clearly visible to the professors.

A surprising number of younger Hogwarts students were in attendance, accompanying older students. Many of them sat with students from the other schools, somehow managing to overcome language and cultural barriers to exploit the loop hole that allowed them to attend the otherwise restricted function.

The professors sat at tables grouped close together. They too seemed to be enjoying themselves, rarely sparing a glance at the students to make sure things were staying civil. Only Moody appeared to be paying more than a little attention to anybody not seated at the same table, and for a change, his magical eye wasn't following Golem-Harry's every move.

A very young girl, who rarely seemed to move far from Fleur's side, sat at a table within arm's reach of the French Champion, surrounded by people much older than her, but still managing to appear comfortable with the company. It was hard to be certain, but Harry had the unsettling feeling the Defence professor was keeping a close watch over her.

"That's Gabrielle Delacour," said Hermione, seeing where Harry was looking. "She is Fleur's younger sister. I don't know how she managed to get to come with them, or be allowed in here. She's not even a student yet."

"She's not Veela too, is she?" asked Harry.

"Not that I can tell, but she does seem to be able to get what she wants."

"You're just jealous," teased Chloris. "Look at that complexion."

"And those perfect teeth," said Ginny.

"Not to mention that smile," said Jim with a sly grin. "Lights up the whole room."

"Going to be a heartbreaker, that one," said Neville.

"Absolutely," agreed Harry, getting in on the joke.

"Oh, please," said Hermione indignantly. "She's only eight or nine. She just looks older with all that make up on."

Neville and Jim suddenly burst out laughing, making Hermione blush as she realised they were leading her on. She joined in with the others a few seconds later.

A moment before the dancing was scheduled to start, Real-Harry and Cho suddenly appeared, and sat down in the spare seats at their table.

"Howdy all," said Real-Harry, grinning eerily like his younger brother earlier.

Cho smiled nervously and gave a small wave to everybody with the hand not holding her date's arm.

"What are you doing here?" asked Jim rather pointedly.

"Can't I spend a bit of time with my brother and sister?" asked Real-Harry, feigning innocence.

Chloris squinted and looked at Real-Harry like she was trying to see through him.

"What have you done?" she asked.

Real-Harry opened his mouth, but was cut off by the call for the Champions to start the dancing.

Golem-Harry watched silently as the lights dimmed and the other champions floated around the floor for the first dance. He could barely take his eyes off Fleur, possibly because of the Veela charm beguiling him, or simply because she was a stunningly beautiful woman. Her graceful and effortless moving unconsciously drew all eyes to her. Her date danced well, despite his dazed condition, but somehow looked like a clumsy oaf in comparison.

Suddenly the song was ending, but instead of the rest of the audience being invited to join, starting with the headmasters and officials, a single spotlight came on, much brighter than the other dim lights in the room. It lit up the Harry's table in an undeniable invitation to take the floor with the other champions.

"Looks like it's our turn, boys and girls," said Real-Harry, immediately standing up to offer his hand to Cho and look pointedly at the others. "Let's go, gentlemen."

Cho smiled nervously and took Harry's outstretched hand. With a quick nod at the others to make sure they knew to follow, the couple made their way to the floor. Caught up in Real-Harry's wake, the rest of the table also stood and moved to the floor, very aware of every eye in the room watching them. Jim was mumbling under his breath, but Golem-Harry only a caught a word here and there over the murmur of the crowd.

'Kill', 'murder', and 'hurt' seemed to be getting repeated quite often.

Taking Ginny in his arms, Golem-Harry was shaking with nerves at the unexpected attention. He caught a glimpse of Percy arguing with somebody and gesturing wildly, but then the music started and he was forced to put all of his attention into making sure Ginny's toes survived the ordeal.

Though they had practiced a bit, it felt completely different dancing in front of an audience. He managed to make it through the music of the first song without any major mess ups, and relaxed a lot as the rest of the room joined them on the floor for the next one. By the fifth song he was actually enjoying himself, and so, apparently, was Ginny.

"Glad you came?' she asked him.

"Very," said Harry. "You?"

"Oh yeah," she said. "Although I am still a bit surprised you asked me."

"Why? You've been nothing but supportive since, well you know. Hermione told me you wanted to come and suggested I take you. Was there somebody else you wanted to come with or something?"

"I was hoping Neville would ask me."

"Neville? I'm sorry Ginny, I didn't know-"

"No, you prat," interrupted Ginny with a laugh. "I didn't expect you to ask me, and I really wanted to come, so I was hoping Neville would ask me."

"Oh. Why didn't you think I'd ask you?"

"Because I expected you to take Hermione, or Chloris."

"Ah," said Harry. "We talked about it, and figured out this was the best way to make sure you all got to come. You know, you guys, the Golem support crew."

Ginny laughed at the name.

"I still expected you to ask Chloris," she said.

"But, well, she's sort of like a sister," said Harry, seriously. "I mean, I am made out of her brother's flesh, and look a bit like him, and we're not purebloods you know..."

"Eeeww," said Ginny, catching Harry's meaning. "Prat."

"Besides," said Harry, unable to keep a mischievous grin off his face. "How could I not want to ask you? You are the prettiest girl I know."

"Very smooth, Harry," laughed Ginny. "Jim's been teaching you more than just spells, hasn't he?"

"He's tried, but I'm a bit thick," laughed Harry, amazed at how relaxed he felt.

Somebody roughly bumping him from behind made him stumble into Ginny, nearly knocking her down.

"Watch where you're going, you stupid thing," said Malfoy. "You got feet made of clay or something?"

Pansy, Malfoy's pug-faced, Slytherin date, laughed like it was the funniest thing she had ever heard.

Large, glowing badges proclaiming "Support the real Hogwarts Champion" stood out on their chests, oddly out of place on the otherwise immaculately dressed couple. As Harry watched, the words on the badges changed, swirling colourfully into a new saying:

"Golems aren't people."

"Do you like our badges?" asked Draco, smirking when he saw Harry's expression. "I had a hundred of them made at first, but had to go back for a second run when I ran out."

All of a sudden Draco lunged forward, tripping over and crashing to the ground. The people around Malfoy began to laugh as he tried to get to his feet, not realising his shoe laces were tied together. Pansy looked mortified and shrieked at him.

"What are you laughing at, Weasley?" snarled Draco, looking up at Ron dancing with Lavendar Brown nearby. "Aren't you jealous your sister's got your life-sized love doll? Best husband she could hope to get anyway."

Ron's face turned a shade of red and he took a step towards Draco. So did Harry, but Ginny's hand on his arm stopped him just before Professor Snape suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

"What is the meaning of this?" snapped Snape, looking directly at Harry.

"Potter tripped me," said Draco, finally managing to get back to his feet.

"I did not!" said Chloris indignantly, from behind them somewhere.

"Not you," said Draco.

"Well it wasn't me," said Jim, from a bit further away. "Was it you Harry?"

"Not me," called Real-Harry from even further away. "Must have been his own clumsiness, either that or his extra toes got in the way again. It's got to be hard finding shoes that fit when you are that inbred."

Half of the dance floor was now watching and listening, and laughed at the Potter family's antics.

"Not them, him," said Draco, pointing at Golem-Harry. "The thing."

Snape whirled on Harry, but before he had a chance to even give one of his trademark sneers, Harry let him have it.

"Don't even bother opening your mouth, Snivellus," he snapped, letting his volatile temper flare. "Everybody here has heard every stupid thing you've ever come up with at least twice, and I can guarantee you, we are all thoroughly sick of it."

For this first time anybody could remember, Severus Snape was actually lost for words. After more than a decade of terrorising students, he was surprisingly unprepared for the sheer, deliberate rudeness and hostility Harry sent his way.

"You can give me detention, or take house points, or do any of the thousands of other stupid things you normally do when Malfoy accuses me of something, but I really don't give a flying-"

"Harry!" said Professor Dumbledore, appearing as abruptly as Snape had done.

"What?" he snapped.

The audience went particularly quiet at the Golem's obvious lack of respect towards the headmaster.

"Perhaps we should move off the dance floor while we resolve this situation?" said Professor Dumbledore, peering over the top of his half moon spectacles meaningfully.

"Don't bother," said Harry, turning his back on them to face his date. "Ginny, I'm sorry. Please stay and enjoy yourself, really – I won't be fit for company any further tonight, even if I was somehow allowed to stay, so I'm just going to go to bed. It's been great. Thanks."

He didn't try to say anything to anybody else, but turned and marched out of the room, leaving the only people he considered his friends behind.

By the time his temper cooled, and he finally accepted how stupidly he had acted, he found himself in his usual place at the edge of the Hogwarts' lake, clutching the golden egg in his arms.

Vaguely he recalled thinking that, since he couldn't sleep, he should work on solving the puzzle, but idle daydreams of gruesomely decapitating Malfoy and Snape kept distracting him.

Suddenly his rage flooded back again, undoing the last few hours' work of calming down.

Everywhere he went, there were always people bringing him down. The Dursleys, Dudley's School mates, teachers, neighbours, Snape, Malfoy – it never ended, and never would, no matter what he achieved.

"Screw it," he shouted into the empty night.

With a mighty heave, he angrily threw the egg into the lake. Unfortunately, he only just managed to clear the shore, and it landed sideways in the shallows. The impact burst it open, but instead of the usual painful screeching, mumbled singing came out, floating up through the water unrecognisably.

"You have got to be kidding me," said Harry, staring incredibly at the mostly submerged egg.

#

"Garry! Oi, Garry, wait up. We want a word with you."

Harry ignored the call the first time, since he didn't think it was directed at him, despite the relative emptiness of that part of the castle. He half turned at the sound of running footsteps behind him though, his hand automatically going to his wand before he recognised the people racing down the corridor towards him.

The tall red-headed boys slid to a stop before they reached him, both raising their hands into the air.

"Whoa, hang on there a moment," said the first Weasley twin.

"We aren't looking for trouble," added the second one.

"We just wanted to say 'hello'."

"And maybe chew the fat for a while."

"You know," they both added at the same time. "Chat."

Harry kept his hand on his wand, but didn't pull it out any further.

Fred and George Weasley had never shown anything like hostility towards Harry since his name came out of the Goblet, or after it was revealed he was a Golem, but neither had they come forward to offer any sort of real support for him.

He waited silently, wondering what they had in mind, and why they chose now to speak to him. The twins looked at each other nervously.

"Look, we're sorry," blurted the first one.

"We know we've been a bit stupid about all this," said the second.

"But it wasn't like we done it on purpose or anything."

"We've just been caught up in our own thing and didn't really think about how it must have looked to you."

"Really, thinking is not our best suit."

"Just ask our professors."

"Or mum."

"Or anybody really."

"Anyway, we just wanted to say sorry for not standing up to be counted when it mattered."

"And we wanted to let you know we are here now."

With that, they both stuck out their hands, one using his left hand while the other used his right, ready for a handshake.

"What do you say?" they said at the same time. "Friends?"

Harry looked at the stupidly grinning pair and felt a smile creeping into his own expression, but he forced it down. It was damn hard.

"Not good enough," he said gravely. "Your dung-brained brother's been giving me grief, and you let him. Your sister tries to help me, and gets a lot of bull for her trouble, especially from your mum. Why should I believe you aren't just setting me up for a sucker punch?"

The twins gave each other a worried glance.

"'Cause were not that smart for starters," said the first one.

"Yeah, and we've got these," said the second, drawing something out of a pocket with his free hand.

It was a badge. Specifically it was one of Malfoy's badges, but it no longer read the way it had at the ball or whenever Harry spied people, mostly Slytherins, walking around the school wearing them.

"Support the Hogwarts Champions" it said before changing to "Go, go Golem."

Harry stood staring at the badge.

"We've been changing them as we find them," said the first twin.

"Usually without the person wearing them noticing," said the second.

"Takes them up to an hour or so to realise it, sometimes."

"Your personal stalker, that Creevey kid, suggested the wording. He said it was a Muggle thing."

Harry couldn't hold back anymore.

"That's brilliant," he laughed.

The twins burst into smiles again, and Harry pinned the badge to his robes just over his heart.

"Now that's out of the way, we want to have a word about you abandoning our young Gin at the ball."

"Upset her a bit that did."

"And we don't like to see our Gin upset, do we Fred?"

"No George, not even by our mate Garry here."

"Come on, guys," said Harry. "I was about to get kicked out anyway. I know I over reacted a bit, well, quite a lot I guess, but Snape was going to make a scene anyway."

"Oh we agree, and are right proud of you giving ol' Snivy a bit of lip," said George.

"But we think you might want to consider what you need to do now," said Fred.

"Eh?" asked Harry, having no idea where they were going with this

.

"Still our clueless little mate, isn't he George? Said he'd need a bit of a nudge, didn't I?"

"You did indeed, and right on the money you were too, brother."

"What?" asked Harry impatiently.

"You, Garry, need to make an apology to your date for letting some berk get under your skin enough to run off and have a temper tantrum."

"Apologise?" asked Harry. "Temper tantrum?"

"Better late than never," said Fred.

"Would have been better that night, since young Gin left soon after you," said George.

"But then you were a bit busy testing how well that egg thing of yours floated, weren't you?"

Harry gulped.

"You saw that?" he asked.

"Little Gin asked us check up on you," explained George.

"Seem to think you might go do something a bit silly."

"She got that right," mumbled Harry.

"Never mind, Garry. We've all got to spit the dummy at one time or another, but you throw like a girl, by the way."

"And not a very strong one either."

"The important thing is you've got something to say to the friends you left behind, right."

Harry thought about it. He knew they were right. He had to stop being such a git before it became a habit, and if the Weasley twins thought it important enough to confront him about it, he must be getting bad. At least they hadn't just outright pranked him.

"You're right," he said. "Thanks."

"Not a problem," said Fred.

"What are mates for, except to kick your head in when you are being a twit?" added George.

"What's with the 'Garry' thing?" Harry asked, knowing he was going to regret it.

"Got too confusing calling you both Harry," explained the Fred.

"Calling you Harvey was on the cards."

"But we figured nobody would ever know who we were talking about, which wasn't necessarily bad, just not very helpful."

"So 'Garry' it is. Short for Golem Harry, of course."

Harry groaned and rubbed his forehead with a hand.

"I am not calling myself Garry," he said with as much finality as he could.

"Not expecting you to," they answered, smiling.

The answer didn't really comfort him at all.

#

"So I just wanted to say sorry," Harry finished lamely. "For being a bit of a prat and walking out on you all, especially you Ginny."

Silence greeted his closing words as his friends stood around him in the empty class room. For a moment he wondered if he had just made an even bigger fool of himself.

"I don't know about the others," said Ginny, shooting a quick glance around at the others. "But I knew before we went that there was every chance it was all going to fall apart. I had a good time, up to that point anyway, and I wouldn't have been able to go at all if you hadn't asked me, so I guess it all balances out."

"But I ruined your night," protested Harry. "After all of the effort you went to, I let Snape and Malfoy get to me."

"Was bound to happen," said Neville. "I'm just glad you didn't start a fight."

"I was looking forward to seeing you mess up the git," said Jim.

"Snape or Malfoy?" asked Harry.

"Either. Both. I'm good with whatever you wanted to go with, but I'll forgive you for only yelling at them."

Harry turned to the other two people in the room.

"I spent hours on that hair-do," said Hermione, with a mock pout. "And two bottles of Sleekezy hair potion."

"I'll buy you replacements," offered Harry. "Twice as many, in fact."

"You'll do more than that," she said. "Once you win this tournament, you are also going to take me to at least two high-society dances, and not leave until I am good and ready."

"Done," said Harry.

"Don't listen to her," said Chloris. "She stayed until the last dance anyway, once those Weasleys jokers told us you were in bed all safe and sound. I'll accept your apology, but only on the proviso that you never storm off on your own again, even if it is just to go sulk in your room. Lord knows you were angry enough to do something stupid. I am just glad you controlled yourself and went to bed."

Neville shifted uncomfortably, and Harry suddenly knew the Fred and George had lied to his friends, to make them feel better, and Neville knew about it.

It was nice of them, but now he had to explain about the egg.

"Yeah, about that-" he began.

#

The luxurious perfection of the prefect's bathroom startled Harry. The swimming pool-sized bath, with its dozens of gilded taps and immaculate mosaic tiling, was a stark contrast to most other parts of the castle, and the Wizarding world in general.

Over the years, Harry had grown used to the rough-edged, slightly decrepit look of all Magical areas. Secretly he suspected everything worthwhile was created centuries ago and nobody kept anything up, but the bathroom was so totally opposite, he wondered if it was very old at all.

Professor McGonagall didn't hesitate to give him the password when he asked if there was somewhere he could easily submerge himself and the egg without anybody disturbing him. He had expected a bathroom with a tub larger than the small one in his bathroom, but this was over the top.

Shaking himself from his stupor, he quickly disrobed and climbed into the swimming pool-sized bath. He spent a few minutes playing with all of the taps, but eventually settled down and let the warm, foamy water rise up around him and the fake dragon's egg sitting on his lap.

For the first time in ages, he relaxed, trusting to the magic of the door to keep everybody else out while the soothing water swirled ever higher around him. Deep down, he knew it was too good to last.

It came as no real surprise then, when a girlish giggle echoed through the empty room, breaking Harry's illusion of peaceful solitude.

"Hello, Myrtle," said Harry, watching the ghost float up out of the bubbles.

The surly ghost frowned at Harry's casual acceptance of her presence in the same room as him while he was naked.

"Hello, Harry," she said, pouting. "Aren't you embarrassed?"

"I probably should be, but I really don't have the energy for it," said Harry. "Every day at my old school when I was growing up usually involved some sort of humiliation or another, and there have been far too many of them here at Hogwarts too. I just can't be bothered anymore."

Myrtle looked disappointed and sniffed a little.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Trying to hear what this stupid clue says," explained Harry, nodding at the egg. "I dumped it into the lake and it sounded like it was playing a song. I figured if I put it under water with me, I might be able to hear it."

"That's what the other boy did," said Myrtle. "Cedric was so much more fun, though. He almost drowned when I popped up to say hello. You never come to visit me, Harry."

"I know. I'm sorry. I've been a bit caught up in myself lately," said Harry, following the changing subject easily. "What did Cedric find out?"

Myrtle pouted.

"Come on," said Harry encouragingly. "You can tell me."

"You need to put your head under the water and listen to the song. It's sung by those silly Mermaids in the lake and tells you all about the race you have to finish."

"Just what I was thinking," he said, smiling.

He slowly let his head sink under the water and opened the egg at the same time. Immediately, eerie voices began a strange but oddly compelling song. It took him several goes to get the riddle-song memorised, but eventually he had it, for all the good it did him.

Leaning back to enjoy the warmth of the magically heated water, Harry lazily backstroked through the frothing foam and looked thoughtfully at the ghost floating through water as if she was swimming.

Myrtle often got upset when anything came up that could even remotely be linked to her non-living existence. He used to find it annoying, but now had a new perspective and appreciation for how emotionally painful it must be for the young girl. It was as if the revelation of his non-human condition gave him more understanding and empathy for her, a sort of comradeship that he couldn't openly acknowledge, lest he upset her.

The way she latched onto his original false promise of friendship was another sign that she was starved for companionship, despite haunting a place filled with people for most of the year. She died a long time ago and spent most of her existence in the magical school. In all of that time, he couldn't imagine her limiting herself solely to the empty toilets and bathrooms, even if she did avoid people.

"So, Myrtle, what can you tell me about the Merpeople and the lake?" he asked, trying hard to dazzle her with a smile.

Myrtle giggled shyly and smiled back.


	4. Pressure Sickness

The water of the lake looked very cold; freezing, in fact. Even standing on the shore in an enhanced, full-length swimsuit, Harry knew it was going to be exceedingly chilly, especially in the deeper parts.

Thanks to Myrtle, he knew almost exactly where he needed to go, but it didn't provide as much comfort as he thought it would. Nor did knowing he was able to cast all of the spells he intended on using, and had successfully done so in numerous practice sessions.

At least the other contestants looked just as nervous. Krum was pacing, while Fleur and Cedric just stood around looking worried. They all shared the same fears, that someone they cared for greatly was at the bottom of the lake waiting to be rescued, with worry about the dangerous obstacles they were facing in the dark water thrown in for good measure.

"Nearly time," said Ginny, taking Hermione's place as his visible support.

She wore one of the twins' modified badges on her warm looking jacket.

"Nice badge," said Harry, smiling. "Hope it doesn't get you into too much trouble."

Ginny returned his smile.

"It's all the fashion, didn't you know?" she said. "Look around."

Harry looked at the audience, really paying it attention for the first time. At least a quarter of them wore the badges, and a huge, glowing sign floated above the crowd, reading "Go for it Garry".

"Eh?" said Harry, astounded.

"You really need to spend more time outside of your rooms," said Ginny. "We've been trying to tell you for ages now. People are taking notice. After the first task, a lot of them realised what was happening to you, and it's just not on."

"But," stumbled Harry. "So many?"

"It's a start," said Ginny critically. "But you need more, and you'll get them, even if you get cheated out of the points again."

Harry still couldn't take it in.

"Relax," said Ginny, hugging him tightly. "It's working. Chloris and Jim's plan, it's making a difference. Win or lose, people are waking up. You are going to be all right. Just do your best."

A large lump filled Harry's throat and he suddenly felt a surge of hope like none other.

"Good luck," said Ginny, pulling his head down to place a chaste kiss on his cheek.

She ran off to join the crowd before Harry could compose his thoughts enough to say thanks, so he turned and walked over to join the other Champions at the edge of the pier while the boring, official announcements took place.

Besides confirming the task involved retrieving one of their friends from somewhere in the lake, the only other point of interest was Percy Weasley taking Barty Crouch's position as Judge, not that Harry expected it to improve his scoring in anyway. It may even have made the situation worse, if that was possible.

The canon blast signalling the start boomed loudly, and all four leaped into action.

Cedric cast a perfect Bubblehead charm and dived into the water without hesitation. Fleur also cast the Bubblehead, but took the time to transfigure her sandals into long flippers before she too jumped in. Krum took more time, partially transfiguring himself into a shark, and then followed the others into the water and sped off. Harry was the slowest, summoning some rocks and a tree branch out of the lake. He stepped back from the water, much to the surprise of most of the crowd.

Ignoring the jeers and comments from some of the closer spectators, Harry transfigured the rocks into a weight belt and fastened it around his waist before turning his attention to the branch. With several deft flicks of his wand, he enlarged and shaped it into a crude boat. It took several more spells to charm the bottom see-through, but he managed without too much trouble, thanks to his long hours of practice.

Despite almost having the spell down pat, and having made many test boats that didn't immediately sink like his first attempt, he still crossed his fingers as his levitation spell ended and it settled into the water. Barely a drop entered.

Climbing in and sitting down carefully, he tapped the back of his boat, just as Hagrid did all those years ago on a dingy little island in the middle of nowhere. His nervousness translated into a slightly more powerful spell than intended, and the boat launched forward so fast that a wave of spray shot out, drenching part of the crowd heckling him, and few others besides.

Within minutes he left Cedric and Fleur behind, but he had no idea where Krum was, nor did he care. He slowed the boat down as he neared the middle of the lake and cast another charm on the glass bottom, magically enhancing it to let him scan the bottom of the lake as clearly as if it was clear air and not murky water.

That was the hardest of the spells he was planning on using, and took the most time to master. If it hadn't been for Hermione's persistence, Harry would probably have gone for one of the easier options, and now she was relying on him to get her out of the danger helping him had placed her in.

Harry caught a glimpse of Fleur shooting underneath him as she dived deeply, looking for clues of the location of the hostages. It was surprising she managed to catch up with him so fast, meaning she was either a very good swimmer, or was pushing herself dangerously hard. Swimming in that water, with the number of hazards about, it was not a good plan to exhaust yourself.

Even as he watched, several Grindylows swam out of the depths to grab at the witch's legs, dragging her backwards. She fought hard and kicked them off, then pushed onwards, thrusting the long reeds rising from the bottom aside with her wand. Unlike Harry, she no longer appeared to be heading directly to the deepest part of the lake, but was angled off to one side. Possibly she knew something he did not, but there was a chance her brief tussle with the small water demons turned her around and destroyed her sense of direction.

Tearing himself away, Harry continued onwards, searching for signs of the Merpeople village. It took him about fifteen minutes to stumble across the first of the outlying buildings, and another three or four to find Hermione and the others floating above what appeared to be a central square, tethered to the ground with long ropes. By that time, his boat was starting to show signs of wanting to return to its previous, sunken state, with a puddle of water pooling underneath his seat.

The first Bubblehead charm he cast failed, and the second only covered his eyes and nose.

Forcing himself to calm down, Harry concentrated on the relatively simple charm. Charms were almost always harder for him than other magic, but it was more likely the fact his life might depend on this on that made it all the more difficult for him. His life, and possibly Hermione's too.

The third attempt appeared to work well, but Harry still took a deep breath before rolling out of the boat into the water.

As he suspected, it was freezing, and even with numerous warming charm worked into his swimming suit, he soon found himself shivering.

The weight of his transfigured belt dragged him down, and he quickly sank below the line of apparently unconscious people floating several metres above the floor of the lake. He was surprised to recognise Cho Chang as one of the hostages, alongside little girl that followed Fleur everywhere, her sister, Gabrielle. The last hostage after Hermione was a boy from Durmstrang that Harry had never met – only his robes gave away that he was Krum's hostage.

The ground came up and collided with Harry, knocking him over. He didn't realise he had been sinking so fast and was tricked by the feeling of weightlessness the water gave. Climbing to his feet, he saw he was surrounded by vicious looking Merpeople, some armed with long tridents. They were all showing their pointy teeth, in what Harry hoped was a smile at his clumsiness.

Seeing none of them were making any move to stop him, Harry walked to the base of the rope holding Hermione and cast a cutting curse at it. It parted easily, leaving him holding onto the floating girl like she was some sort of strange, oversized, carnival balloon.

Laughing at the mental image, Harry dropped his weight belt and let the bubblehead charm pull him upwards. It was slightly uncomfortable, effectively being dragged upwards by his head, but it was a darn sight easier than trying to swim, since he had never learned more than the basics taught at his Muggle school.

Getting back into the boat proved more difficult, as was getting Hermione into it as well. Luckily she didn't wake up until after he had her out of the water and on the cramped deck, and had a chance to remove the Bubblehead.

"You did it!" she shouted, lunging forward to hug him and almost sending both of them back into the water. "Look, is that Viktor?"

Below them, a half-shark, half-human creature gnawed at the rope holding the Durmstrang student.

"I really hope so," said Harry, turning to start the boat moving towards shore.

If it turned into a race, Harry wasn't sure if his already leaking boat would hold together at the speed he would need to beat Krum. Every second countered.

They passed Cedric on the way back. He was heading in the right direction and would reach the village in few more minutes, but not before Harry was done, boat disintegration notwithstanding.

The cheering when they reached the finish line first was rather muted, but at least it drowned out the booing and cat calls. Polite applause, however, was much more prevalent, and that was the best Harry had hoped for.

Hermione, however, took a rather dim view of the people not offering heartfelt appreciation for her shivering, and was especially irate when Viktor Krum arrived several minutes later and received a louder roar of approval.

"Ridiculous," she spat, through shivering teeth, despite having been the recipient of drying and waring charms as soon as they climbed out of Harry's crumbling vessel. "He used one spell that barely worked, and came in second."

"I'm just glad I finished without facing much of a life threatening situation," said Harry.

"Easy for you to say," grumbled Hermione. "Come on."

They left the cheering crowd and headed for the champions' tent where warm drinks and comfortable resting places waited. Both knew the return of the other champions wouldn't be much different, and nobody wanted Harry to be there, rubbing it in that he was the first to finish.

#

An hour after the time limit on the task expired, Harry was starting to get worried.

"Something's gone wrong," he told Hermione.

They were both still waiting in the champions' pavilion, dry, changed and drinking warm cups of chocolate.

If he was expecting her to automatically reassure him, he would have been disappointed. She simply took another sip of her third drink and kept her eyes down. It was as much as an agreement as anything.

Krum, Cedric, and their hostages looked up at Harry's announcement.

"Vat?" asked Krum.

"I said, something has gone wrong," repeated Harry. "Fleur should be back by now, and the scoring should have been done. Something's not right."

"Maybe you were right and she got lost," said Cedric.

They all relayed their various experiences while waiting in the tent, although Krum's tale was so short and abrupt you might have thought he had simply swam out directly and come back with no problem. Only the fact that Cedric saw Krum fighting off the giant squid made the Bulgarian champion admit he had encountered a 'few problems'. Yet he had finished only a few minutes behind Harry, who had the easiest run by far.

Cedric also faced a few 'problems', including the Grindylows and some other nasty lake dwellers, on his way out, but was relatively unmolested on the return trip, coming in third not fifteen minutes after Krum.

"She should still be back by now," said Cho. "The professors wouldn't leave her swim around out there all day, would they?"

The Durmstrang hostage didn't speak much English, but apparently understood, and nodded in agreement.

"No," said Harry. "It was meant to be over an hour ago," he said. "Something's gone wrong."

Just then, the magically enhanced voice of Professor Dumbledore boomed out.

"All students are to return to the castle immediately," it said, with so much authority that the champions and their hostages automatically got up to leave.

Before they got out of the tent, Professor McGonagall entered, holding her hand up to stop them.

"Will the champions please remain behind," she said.

"Professor, what's going on?" asked Hermione.

McGonagall looked like she was about to answer, but stopped herself.

"Please go on up to the castle, Miss Granger," she said.

Hermione looked to Harry, who gave her a small nod, before leading the way out of the tent. Viktor Krum barely waited for them to be gone before asking again.

"Ve are Champions. You keeping us behind. Tell us vat is going on," he demanded. "Or I go find my Headmaster myself and he tell me."

McGonagall hesitated a second, before nodding her head in agreement.

"It is probably best if you do," she said, stepping aside for Krum to leave.

Krum looked startled, but left without saying another word.

Harry and Cedric both opened their mouths, but McGonagall cut them off.

"I am afraid you will have to wait for the headmaster," she said in a voice that left no room for argument. "Please hold your questions until then."

Before either Harry or Cedric could say anything else, the door parted again and Professor Dumbledore walked in, with Percy Weasley and Ludo Bagman following him. All of them had grave expressions on their faces.

"Mister Diggory," said the headmaster. "You were the last one to reach the Merpeople village-"

Harry opened his mouth to object, knowing Fleur was nowhere to be seen when he had passed Cedric, but was silenced by Dumbledore holding up a hand to forestall him.

"Did you happen to notice anything unusual about young Miss Delacour?"

"Fleur?" asked Cedric. "I didn't see Fleur, not after she swam off too fast for me to keep up with at the start."

"Not Fleur," said Dumbledore. "The young woman floating alongside our own Miss Chang, Gabrielle Delacour. She was the person Fleur was to rescue, and as you can probably summarise from the name, was Fleur's younger sister."

"No," said Cedric. "I didn't notice anything, but I was pretty worn out from getting there and just grabbed Cho straight away."

Harry felt his stomach clench – he couldn't help notice the wording of Dumbledore's question.

"Was?" he asked. "You said 'was Fleur's sister'. What do you mean 'was'?"

Dumbledore looked sadly at Harry, confirming his guess, while Cedric suddenly grasped the implication and let his mouth fall open.

Gabrielle Delacour, was dead.

#

As if the death of one of the hostages wasn't bad enough, news that Fleur was still compelled to compete in the final task, due to the magical contract, was nothing short of outrageous.

The papers were filled with it, and nobody seemed able to talk about anything else. Even Harry found himself repeatedly going over events in his mind, wondering if he should have done or said something differently. He'd seen Fleur getting herself into trouble, putting too much energy into finding Gabriel as quickly as possible, and yet did not tell anybody until after the time limit expired.

The platinum-blonde girl was disorientated by the Grindylows' attack, and wasted precious time and energy searching the wrong part of the lake before finding her way to the village. When she eventually found and untied Gabrielle, the young girl had already drowned, despite numerous spells to prevent it and the watching crowd of Merpeople, who didn't recognise it happening.

It didn't help that a three hour interrogation by Aurors raised many questions along the same lines Harry was asking himself, and other lines much less reasonable. It was fairly apparent that at least one of the people questioning him suspected he was somehow responsible or involved in the seemingly impossible death of the girl.

"Dumbledore and the other judges cast the spells that where meant to keep them alive, didn't they?" yelled Harry, on one of the many instances he lost control of his anger at the accusations. "Do you really think I'd have any hope removing them?"

"But you've been doing all sorts of magic people didn't think you could, haven't you?" asked the nastiest of the officers, a man with a nose that looked like it had been broken often. "That transfiguration is seventh year work, at least. Not bad for a fourth year thing that shouldn't even be able to light up a wand."

Harry sincerely felt like adding to the list of people who damaged the surly Auror's face.

In the end, the Prior Incantatem spell cast on Harry's wand proved he did not cast any spells outside of the ones he used to complete the task, and that resolved most questions about his guilt, but not all of them. He was very glad he spent the days leading up to the task concentrating on practicing those same spells, and did not cast any of the darker ones he and Jim were learning from a book sneaked from the restricted section. If the Aurors discovered some of those spells on his wand, he could possibly be still under interrogation weeks later.

As it was, enough people were willing to believe he was somehow a part of the young girl's death, even without proof or reason, that it became impossible for him to enter the common room without causing major disruption. Professor McGonagall moved him to an unused professor's quarters near her own private rooms after the fifth time a booby trap missed him and got another Gryffindor, this time breaking Dean's leg painfully.

Harry didn't know who it was trying to injure him, but he was becoming as paranoid as Mad-eye Moody.

The final insult came when the scores were released. Again, Harry was given all zeros from everybody except Dumbledore, but this time everybody else, even Cedric, had some zeroes too, as the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons heads argued with each other over Fleur, letting it spill over onto Cedric.

"It's all pointless, isn't it?" he asked Hermione in the newfound privacy of his suite. "Even if I win, everybody is going to say I cheated, or that Fleur would have won if she wasn't grieving for her sister, or some other rot. This isn't going to work."

Hermione sighed and let her head rest on Harry's shoulder in a show of intimacy that was becoming all the more frequent.

"I can't say it's going to work the way we first hoped, no," she said, "but I don't think you should give up. If you do win, at least they won't be able to just sneak you off somewhere, while nobody is looking. People will want to hear more about you, and Professor Dumbledore will find a way to use winning to your advantage."

Harry didn't snort his disbelief, deciding Hermione's possibly misguided hope in the headmaster didn't need to be taken away by him – the old man would likely do it soon enough.

"What have you learned about the third task?" she asked.

"Jim flew over the Quidditch field on a broom," said Harry. "He used the invisibility cloak and went up pretty high to have a look. Hagrid and Professor Sprout have really outdone themselves this time. They've planted a maze. The walls move around every ten minutes or so, making it impossible to map, so you have to solve it as you go, and there looks like a lot of areas that are going to have something sitting in them. Some places don't change and have wards on them, mostly some sort of concealment thing that made it hard for Jim to see in. Chloris thinks they'll put traps there, and throw in a few monsters along the way to make it interesting."

"Sounds ghastly," said Hermione with a slight shiver.

"Speaking of which," said Harry, digging though the pile of parchments on the table in front of them to extract a letter that he handed to Hermione. "Here, read this."

A few seconds later, she let out a gasp.

"He wants your Invisibility cloak back?" she asked.

"It's not really mine, is it?" said Harry. "I mean, I've been using it for a few years, but only because Dumbledore gave it to me because he thought James was dead. It's a family heirloom, James says, so I guess he wants to pass it onto the real Harry one day, or needs it for Sirius while they are hunting Wormtail, or something."

"Oh, Harry," said Hermione, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay," said Harry, with a forced smile. "They've offered to get me another one, when they can."

"But it's not the same, is it?" asked Hermione.

She knew how important the Invisibility cloak was to Harry; how, for the last three years, it was a tangible link to his father that he could call his own.

Harry shrugged.

"He didn't have to offer anything in exchange, so it's not that bad. I mean, they haven't said anything about the money I've spent."

They sat silently for a moment, neither sure what to say.

"That's another reason I'm going to have to win the tournament, I suppose," Harry suddenly said. "Otherwise I won't have any money to come back to Hogwarts with next year."

Since it was the first time Hermione heard Harry express something other than bleak pessimism about the future, she decided not to say anything, and just leaned forward to hug him.

"Jim brought me a book with a spell that's meant to be almost as good as a cloak," said Harry, turning to look at Hermione. "It's called Advanced Invisibility and looks bloody hard. Want to try to learn it with me?"

Hermione nodded and smiled, knowing it was just another distraction, but a welcome one.

#

The year dragged on, agonisingly slow. Each day became a repetition of the last, with very little to differentiate them.

Harry gave up trying to have any interaction with people outside of his little group, despite Hermione and Chloris encouraging him to talk to those few who still appeared to support him. It was just too much effort to constantly relive the hidden glares and whispering of his second year again, especially since this time there was even less cause.

He barely ventured outside, only occasionally sneaking out for a few hours here and there to visit Hagrid or to sit on the edge of the lake.

The sight of the lake was not particularly comforting anymore though, and Harry always found his thoughts returning to the death of Fleur's sister. He stopped going there so often, and instead starting spending more time at the top of the various towers.

Sometimes he went out at night, to help with his astronomy studies. He didn't really need to, since Chloris had a globe that simulated the night sky perfectly. She shared it with them all, making it a lot easier to study the subject, but his nighttime excursions made for a nice change every now and then.

Harry was loosely following the Hogwarts curriculum, at Hermione's rather forceful suggestion. He refused to be bothered with Potions, History of Magic, or Divination though, and only studied the essentials of other subjects, like astronomy, figuring spending the extra time on other, more urgent subjects was a better idea.

Hermione and Neville spent a part of each day studying the 'normal' subjects with Harry, while Jim and Chloris would regularly spend hours with them, going over some of the more advance spells Harry was learning for the tournament.

Ginny too would sometimes stop in, just to say hello and talk with Harry and whoever was with him. She insisted he not spend all of his time studying, and was at least as effective as Chloris in getting him to have some fun. They even managed to convince Hermione to take time out from her study schedule to take part in an occasional water balloon or paint ball-like game, under the thin veil of supposedly helping Harry learn how to duel better.

Very few other people made any effort to seek out Harry, not even the Professors.

Surprisingly, the real Harry Potter did, mainly to check up on his younger brother and sister, but sometimes to help if the group were stuck on something. It annoyed Golem-Harry to no end to find he couldn't help but like the confident and open boy, especially when the real Harry took up pranking Ron incessantly if he opened his mouth to degrade Golem-Harry or any of his friends.

Apparently, Ron didn't like the new Harry, finding the boy's self esteem and abilities overshadowing him totally.

He wouldn't 'lower' himself to try and be friends with Golem-Harry though, and often got into very loud arguments with Ginny and Hermione about the amount of time they were spending with the 'dangerous thing'. It was completely ridiculous attitude, fuelled, Harry suspected, by Ron's embarrassment at possibly having to admit he was totally wrong about Golem-Harry entering the competition to begin with, and jealously for Real-Harry.

Instead, Ron chose to go with the popular theories that Golem-Harry was basically insane, and pretended their previous adventures were attempts on his life. This, unfortunately, brought him the unwanted attentions of his twin brothers, who felt such loyalty should not go unrewarded, and the Potter clan, who took offense at any disparaging comments.

Ron was having a truly miserable year.

Real-Harry also brought interesting stories about the Defence Professor, Mad-eye Moody. He apparently continuously warned Real-Harry about the dangers posed by his Golem clone, and offered to help teach the real boy how to 'protect himself'; sometimes hinting the Golem should be removed permanently.

Malfoy made one attempt at ambushing Golem-Harry near his rooms, and spent another week in the infirmary recovering. Golem-Harry was at a loss to explain it though, since he was nowhere near there when the attack occurred, but Real-Harry stepped forward to take responsibility, explaining he was on his way to visit when Draco and his goons mistook him for his target and suffered the consequences.

There were a few questions about how Real-Harry had defeated three boys his own age ambushing him, but nobody, not even Real-Harry himself, had any explanation other than he simply outclassed them. Less was asked about how anybody could possibly mistake the two Harrys, taking into account the considerable difference in their physical appearance.

Through it all though, there was only one person who showed more loyalty and unshakable faith in Harry than Hermione; Dobby the House-elf. Harry chose not to think about the fact that the elf was basically mad, and accepted all of the help he could get, especially when it involved endless supplies of food and drink for him and his friends.

It was a bit of a lonely existence, but far from the absolute isolation Harry suffered in the years before Hogwarts, or during his forced summer returns to Privet Drive.

One particular night, Harry was sneaking through the castle testing his ability to avoid the patrolling Professors, prefects, and Caretaker Filch, when he found himself retreating to the top of the Astronomy tower in an attempt to get away from the caretaker's cat, Mrs Norris.

He had so far failed to master the Invisibility spell, and his Disillusionment still tended to fade if he moved too fast or too far. Without an invisibility cloak, sneaking around the castle proved to be a lot harder. He could have used the Marauder's Map, but usually chose to test himself against the patrols without its aid, as a challenge.

Selfishly, Harry had not told any of the Potters about the map, and so was able to keep it for himself.

He was rushing too quickly to consult the map, and took a chance that any amorous couples making their rendezvous there would be too busy to notice him.

Previously, some couples helped Harry give his pursuers the slip, occasionally taking the fall for his outings when he was unable to shake his followers. They also gave Harry an increased awareness of certain areas of his education that were severely lacking, and filled in some of the larger gaps any boy his age should already have known.

This night he was lucky, in that he managed to lose Mrs Norris before taking the stairway up, meaning he was clear to spend some time looking out over the grounds without worrying about anybody making snide remarks or taking a shot at him when his back was turned.

It was only after several minutes staring at the star-lit forest that he realised he was not alone.

Drawing his wand as he turned sharply, he froze at the sight of Fleur Delacour sitting slumped against one of the battlements, her wand already out and pointing at him. Even in the pale werelight, she was beautiful, but glistening tear tracks marred her perfect features.

"Eef I learn you 'ad anyzing to do wiz it," she said, in a low, dangerous voice. "I weel keel you."

She didn't need to say what she was referring to; they both knew.

Harry hesitated, wondering what he could possibly say that might make any difference at all to the obviously still grieving woman. He decided on the raw truth.

"If I did," he said, lowering his wand slowly. "I'd save you the trouble."


	5. Chosen Fate

The lead up to the last task was the most nerve racking experience of Harry's life and, considering all that he had been through over the years, that was really saying something. Each day brought him closer to an ending of one kind or another, increasing his apprehension exponentially.

Could he win, against opponents years of study ahead of him and undoubtedly more skilled? If he did win, would it be enough to stop Minister Fudge and the others who wanted nothing more than to pull him apart trying to figure out what made him tick?

Then there was still the matter of who and why his name was put into the tournament to begin with, along with the other strange happenings during the year. Barty Crouch was still missing, and Ludo Bagman's bet with the Goblins was publicly exposed after he tried to get out of it by claiming that, since the real Harry Potter was not competing, the bet wasn't valid. He scored Harry with zeroes in the false belief he was safe from those repercussions, and was now suffering for it.

Not to mention the inexplicable and tragic death of Gabrielle Delacour.

Dumbledore wasn't talking though, and secrecy seemed to shroud every one of the unusual occurrences happening during the tournament.

In the final weeks, Harry worked himself harder than ever, practicing spells over and over again until he could barely raise his wand from exhaustion. He had the characteristics of every animal in the task memorised, with special attention paid to their weaknesses. It was fairly simple to pick up what Hagrid provided during the few visits he and his friends made to the half-giant, although he felt slightly guilty at using his friendship with the gentle man that way.

Not guilty enough to stop after the first, accidental time though.

Similarly, Ginny queried her eldest brother, Bill, on some of the most common curse breaking techniques, hoping to get an insight into anything that might show up in the task. Bill worked as a curse breaker for Gringotts bank, and probably saw straight through Ginny's weak excuse of being interested in it as a possible career. Nevertheless, he provided her with the name of some basic but useful books they could find in the Hogwarts library, and gave quite specific suggestions on what to study first, for a fast-track short course.

None of the Potters were able to contribute any information about the tasks. Their father was again off hunting Wormtail with the other Marauders, and their mother was still busy rebuilding her life. Harry strongly suspected Lily avoided the school because he was there, but had nothing concrete to base that on, so kept the thought to himself.

Even real-Harry was unable to charm much information from anywhere, although his growing friendship with Cho was starting to put him at odds with the rest of Hufflepuff house, since she was Cedric's girlfriend.

"I guess I shouldn't have started asking her to find out what he knows," admitted Harry. "Bit crass of me, that was."

Chloris called him an unmitigated arse and chose to show her disgust with his conduct by turning his hair blue for week.

Jim shrugged and admitted he didn't care one way or the other, but was disappointed that no new information came from it.

Hermione worried herself to the point that the school nurse, Madam Pomfrey, threatened to keep her in the infirmary if she didn't drink a calming potion three nights in a row to ensure an adequate amount of sleep.

Neville was worried too, but managed to keep his head and avoided being caught up in the fever of excitement enveloping the school. He also provided Harry with one of the biggest surprises yet.

"Gran says you are welcome to come and live with us," he told Harry, just a few days before the task. "I wrote and told her what was going on, and asked if she could help you. She's got a bit of pull with the Board of Governors, and the Wizengamot too.

"She said she won't let anybody experiment on you, and that you'll be more than welcome to stay with us between school terms."

To say Harry was shocked at the generosity of the boy he barely knew last year was an understatement.

"It's not as clear cut as it sounds," explained Neville. "My folks are both in hospital, and Gran says there's a chance that the magic inside of you would help a lot of other people in there, but she says it's not right to even think about sacrificing a kid, especially when it might not help at all."

"That's incredible, Neville," said Harry. "I don't know what to say."

Neville shrugged.

"Say yes, I mean, if you want to," he said shyly.

"I'd love to," said Harry, amazed at how much better he felt just knowing he might have somewhere to go to after the tournament. "It'd be like having a brother or something."

Neither boy understood it when Hermione burst out crying and rushed from the room, leaving them staring at each other in confusion.

The biggest surprise though, was when the Daily Prophet suddenly ceasing its vicious attacks against him.

For no discernable reason, it dropped the smear campaign trying to label him as Gabrielle's murderer, and began referring to him as the fourth champion, and not in a negative way.

Hermione suspected the euphoria of the competition affected people's judgement, much like the way the Quidditch World Cup had driven the wizarding world crazy.

"People who never followed the Quidditch league before came out in droves to support teams they barely knew existed," she said. "Now some of those same people are getting on the bandwagon, but choosing you as their champion."

Harry was more inclined to believe Professor Dumbledore had a major role in the turnaround. Something about the satisfied look in his eye whenever Harry saw him reading the paper hinted that he was somehow involved, but wasn't taking credit for it.

Popularity campaigning didn't come naturally to Harry, and he found it almost as tiring as spell practice, but Chloris insisted, and the results were encouraging, with some people even going as far as saying hello to him every now and then.

"They are forgetting what really happened," said Chloris. "All they see is the underdog making good, and they want to believe that they backed you all along."

"She studies history too much," explained Jim, guessing Harry was wondering how she knew. "Things like this go on all the time, apparently. I wouldn't know because I could never get past the Goblin wars – got to love those big battles against impossible odds."

Then there were others, mostly younger years, who ran away shrieking any time they unsuspectingly encountered him in the hallways.

Finally, the day arrived, and crept by with an agonising slowness that made the lead-up appear to have flashed passed in comparison.

The other champions gathered after breakfast, taking the opportunity to show their families around the school. In a typical bureaucratic mess up, the Ministry invited James and Lily Potter to attend, as Harry's parents. Surprisingly, they accepted, but Harry refused to meet with them, knowing they did not consider him family, or even truly human.

The last thing he needed was more confusion, and confronting them was a guaranteed way to ensure that.

Besides, Harry didn't think he could stand to see Fleur's parents, not with all of the rot the Daily Prophet had printed about him being a dangerous, out of control monster. There was every chance Fleur's father might attack him on sight, if he happened to read and believe a single word the rag wrote about the supposedly 'mentally deficient' Golem that was stalking the halls of Hogwarts like a predator.

"I am sure they don't believe that," said Hermione. "Not anymore, anyway."

Harry wasn't reassured, and decided to avoid the possibility of his best friend being wrong.

Dobby forced Harry to eat something, loading him up with high-energy producing foods just an hour before the task was due to start. The little elf was surprisingly forceful when it came to making sure Harry was as prepared as he was ever going to be.

"Harry Potter must be eating all of his food, or he will be falling down asleep," Dobby practically yelled when Harry tried to put him off. "Dobby not be having sleepy-headed Harry Potter running around mazes looking silly!"

Thankfully, a knock on the door interrupted his meal before Dobby forced him to take seconds.

"Potter," growled Mad-Eye Moody. "Got your gear on? Good. Let's go."

With a nod of thanks to Dobby, Harry obediently fell in behind the surly Professor.

"Got to make a stop at my office on the way," said Mad-eye, by way of explanation as they took an unexpected turn away from the path Harry thought they would take.

Moody opened the door to his office and held it open for Harry. No sooner had he crossed the threshold into room, than a spell lashed out and froze him in place. Unable to move, he heard Moody close the door before walking around to stand in front of him.

"Don't worry, lad," said the old Auror. "You'll be safe and sound here."

Harry struggled against the spell holding him, but couldn't do more than blink and sweat involuntarily.

The crazy Professor waved his wand and levitated Harry further into the room. With several complex flicks, he stripped the immobile boy down to his trunks, increasing Harry's fear exponentially.

It took much longer than it should have, due to the spells Harry wove into his champion's robes making them stronger, lighter, and impervious to almost anything up to, and including, a small Dragon's flame. The time spent charming them amounted to many, many hours, and they resisted Moody's spells quite well.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry watched Moody examine the robes.

"Impressive," grunted the old man, before he turned to a large, battered trunk sitting on the floor against one wall. The trunk had several keyholes, and suddenly bumped and jumped as if it had a Boggart inside of it.

"Hold your horses," said Moody, fumbling in his pockets to remove a big, old-fashioned key that matched the style of the trunk. "You'll have company soon enough."

Holding his wand ready in one hand, as if expecting an attack from inside the trunk, he placed the key in the last lock and was about to turn it, when a pounding on the door stopped him.

Swearing under his breath, Moody hastily hunted about the room.

"Just a second," he yelled as the pounding came again.

Finally he found what he was looking for, and draped it over Harry. Harry recognised the silky feel of an invisibility cloak, and discovered he was able to see clearly, if not quite as well as from under James Potter's one.

Moody adjusted the cloak to make sure he was fully covered, and then limped over to the only entry to the room, pausing only to take a swig from the ever-present hip flask. He unlocked and swung the door open, wand still held in his hand.

Harry Potter stood outside the room, hand raised and ready to knock again.

"You were right," said Real-Harry. "He's gone."

"I told you, didn't I?" said Moody. "Said he'd do a runner, right before the last task. Left you in a bit of a pickle, hasn't he?"

"I should go tell mum and dad," said Harry, taking a hesitant step into the room.

"And you know exactly what they'll do, don't you?" asked Moody.

"They'll try to stop me from competing," said Real-Harry.

"But they can't, and it'll be a mess while they try to sort it all out. Meanwhile you'll look like a coward, or worse, suffer the consequences of violating the Goblet of Fire's contract."

"I just can't believe he would disappear like this," said Real-Harry. "He looked like he was going to go through with it. Chloris and Jim both swore he was going to compete. I wonder what happened."

"It's like I told you," said Moody, drawing Real-Harry further into the room and closing the door behind him. "He probably was intending on, right up to the last second, and then he broke. You might have thought he was a real person, but he was just a thing. He's not like you or me."

"It just doesn't make sense," insisted Real-Harry.

"Doesn't matter one way or the other," said Moody. "Now are you going to do it, or not?"

Real-Harry hesitated a moment more, but then nodded.

"Right," said Moody, leaping into action. "The clothes are there on the floor. You put them on and I'll get the Polyjuice ready."

Golem-Harry watched helplessly as his counterpart stripped and put on his champion's robes. Moody returned just as Real-Harry was finishing squeezing into the too-tight robes, and gave him a hip flask similar to the one he kept on him at all times.

"This will only last about an hour at most, so you won't need to take another shot before the tasks starts. Once you are in the maze, it won't matter if you change back. The wards won't let anybody except the contestants in once it starts. Now, drink up, we've only got a few minutes to get you down to the tent."

Real-Harry took the flask and drank. A moment later he was doubled over in pain as the Polyjuice took effect. When he stood up again, he was considerably shorter, skinnier, and, most shockingly of all, bore a lightning shaped scar on his forehead.

"Let's go," said Moody, picking up Real-Harry's discarded clothes and leading him to the door.

He didn't even look back as they walked out.

#

Harry struggled in vain against the magical paralysis. He knew he could, in theory, break its hold on him, but only if he held his wand. The Holly and Phoenix feather wand sat on Moody's table, carelessly tossed there after being removed from his robes.

Loud thumps and muffled noises occasionally came from the strange trunk, as if somebody, or something, was trying to break out of it. Faintly, Harry heard the canon blast signalling the start of the Third Task. A few moments later, the dull boom rang out again, sending the next champion in. Barely a minute after that it boomed yet again, allowing Fleur to enter the maze. There was a long pause before it rumbled the castle a fourth and final time.

He couldn't figure out what was going on. Moody ambushed him, incapacitating him before tricking the Real-Harry Potter to enter the maze, but there was no reason to it. Why would Moody want the real Harry to compete? Was he hoping to get the boy killed? Why? What could the boy possibly have done?

Or was it something he had against Golem-Harry? Did he want to remove any possibility of winning? Then why would he send Real-Harry in his place, especially since Real-Harry was much more capable and likely to win? None of it made any sense.

Suddenly, the door to the room opened again, and Mad-eye Moody limped back in.

"Still here, then?" he laughed, lifting the invisibility cloak up to look at Harry. "Right, let's get you out of here. We've got an appointment to keep, Golem."

"Who are you talking to, Alastor?" said a voice from the doorway behind Moody.

Moody swung around to face the door, and stumbled slightly at the abrupt movement. He took a step sideways to steady himself, leaving Harry a clear view of who was there.

It was Dumbledore.

Harry felt a surge of hope, and struggled even harder to break free.

"Nobody," said Moody hastily. "Just talking to myself, you know, getting old."

"Indeed," said Dumbledore, stepping in through the doorway. "Why are you not at your assigned post outside of the maze?"

"I was just checking on something," said Moody.

Harry could see his hand drifting towards his pocket, the one where he kept his wand.

Before he could complete the motion, Dumbledore's own wand appeared in his hand. Moody yelled and pulled at his pocket, but Dumbledore was far faster. A red light flashed out and hit Moody in the chest, dropping the Defence professor unconscious on the ground.

Professor Snape appeared in the doorway behind Dumbledore, wand also in hand.

"Headmaster, are you all right?" asked Snape, casting an eye over the fallen figure of Moody.

Dumbledore nodded and strode forward to stand a foot from where Harry lay invisibly. He seemed to be looking directly at Harry's face.

"Headmaster?" asked Snape, keeping his wand pointed at the fallen professor.

Suddenly Dumbledore reached and grabbed the invisibility cloak, wrenching it away. If Harry could have cried out in relief, he would have.

"Potter?" asked Snape.

"No," said Dumbledore, raising his wand. "Harry."

With a flick, he removed the spell, and Harry could move again.

"Headmaster," he yelled. "Moody tricked Harry into going into the maze in my place. He told him I ran away and gave him Polyjuice and my robes, and said he had to compete. You've got to stop the tournament."

Dumbledore's eyes widened as Harry spoke, and he suddenly whirled on Moody.

"Polyjuice," he said.

The chest chose that moment to give out a particularly large bang.

All of them turned to stare at it, Snape and Dumbledore automatically bringing their wands up to point at it.

"There's something in there," said Harry.

"Obviously," drawled Snape sarcastically.

"I think he was going to put me in there with it, but he took too long and Harry showed up before he could get it open," explained Harry.

Dumbledore suddenly strode over and turned the key, ignoring the warning yell from Snape and Harry, then threw back the lid. There was a frozen moment, and then he stood back.

A one-eyed, half-bald, and severely battered Alastor Moody rose from the trunk, as if climbing out on a ladder.

"About bloody time you got here," he growled, holding out his arm for Dumbledore to help him.

"Polyjuice," said Harry, turning to look at the Moody still lying on the floor.

"It's Barty Crouch Junior, Crouch's Death Eater son," said the now free Moody, nudging his fallen doppelganger. "He's somehow managed to escape from Azkaban and has been playing me for the whole year, ya daft bastards."

"Severus," said Dumbledore. "Do you have any Veritaserum?"

"Don't bother," said Moody, before Snape could answer. "Got a bottle of it here in my trunk, if that scumbag hasn't used it all up."

He opened another lock on the strange trunk and brought out vial of clear fluid. Harry had the unsettling feeling that each lock on the trunk opened a different section, and at least one of them was big enough to hold a man, for a whole year.

Dumbledore waved his wand and soon had the impostor tied up and seated on a chair, they briefly revived him before forcing a measure of potion down his throat.

"Who are you?" asked Dumbledore.

"Bartholomew Crouch Junior," said the impostor. "Loyal and true servant of the Dark Lord.

"Why did you kidnap and impersonate Alastor Moody?"

"To take his place at Hogwarts during the Triwizard Tournament."

"For what purpose?"

"To kidnap Harry Potter."

"Which Harry Potter?"

"The Golem."

Harry felt his racing heart almost explode from his chest. He couldn't have spoken if he wanted to, but Dumbledore raised his hand again to stop anybody from saying anything or disrupting the interrogation.

"Why?"

"So my master could use his secrets to make a new body, a better body than he would get just using his blood; a body worthy of a god. He wanted Potter for his blood protection, but when we learnt of the Golem, the plan changed."

A loud gasp made all four of room's inhabitants look to the door, where Hermione and Ginny stood in shock.

"We realised it's not Harry, our Harry, in the maze, and came looking for Professor Moody, since he was sent to get Harry," explained Hermione quickly.

She tried to go on but was waved to silence by Dumbledore, who turned back to Crouch.

"Why did you send the other Harry into the maze? What did you hope to accomplish by doing this?"

"To cover up the kidnapping for as long as possible. The confusion at the tournament's end might have made it possible for nobody to ever know exactly what happened, but the fear would make a fitting announcement of my master's return."

"Fear? What fear?" asked Snape. "Why would anybody fear the disappearance of a mere Golem?"

"Not the Golem, the fear caused by the explosion."

"What explosion?" asked Dumbledore.

"The one that will happen when a champion lifts the Triwizard cup off the pedestal," said Crouch, a hint of triumph in his voice. "I filled it with explosive Erumpent fluid."

Moody swore.

"A blast from that much fluid will level the maze," said Snape.

"Killing everybody inside," added Hermione. "You've got to stop the task."

"The wards," said Harry. "Ask him about the wards. He told Harry they wouldn't let anybody in or out, except the champions."

"Severus," said Dumbledore. "Go to the judges and explain exactly what has occurred, then give word to Minerva and Filius and ask them to meet me as soon as possible at the entrance of the maze.

"Miss Granger, would you kindly accompany Harry to the infirmary tent and have Madam Pomfrey check him over? Miss Weasley, could you please visit Harry's room and bring him something suitable to wear?"

Hermione nodded and rushed forward to Harry, as if he needed help to walk. Harry didn't shrug her off, but stopped to get his wand before heading towards the door. Ginny turned red when she realised just how Harry was dressed and immediately rushed off to get him some clothes.

Harry suddenly stopped and turned back to Crouch.

"What about Gabrielle the little French girl? Did you kill her?"

"Yes," answered Crouch.

"Why?"

The foul man wearing Moody's face practically leered.

"Because it was just too good an opportunity to pass up," he said. "Pretty little thing like that, just waiting to be sent over - I couldn't have stopped myself, even if I wanted to."

Harry gripped his wand angrily and turned away, heading out of the room with Hermione following closely. Behind him, he heard Dumbledore continue to interrogate Crouch. Hermione moved up to walk alongside, unusually quiet in the wake of Crouch's horrific revelation.

"You're not going to the tent, are you?" she asked after a while.

"No," said Harry.

"You are going to enter the maze, aren't you?"

"The wards won't let anybody else in, and it'll take some time for the professors to bring them down, if I understood that book of Bill's right. I can get in there and warn the others – stop them from grabbing the cup."

He was waiting for it, expecting the argument. Her silence shocked him a bit.

"Will you at least put some clothes on?" she asked.

The question was so different from what he was expecting that he almost tripped, but managed to stumble to a stop without falling.

"What?"

"You might not have noticed, but you are practically naked," said Hermione. "I can't say it'll look very heroic if you charge into the maze in nothing but your underpants."

"I don't really have time to nick back to my room and grab a fresh pair of slacks," said Harry, smiling in spite of the situation. "Ginny will catch us up, eventually."

"Here," said Hermione, pulling her robes over her head.

Underneath she wore some very Muggle shorts and a t-shirt.

"I've always worn something underneath," she explained, looking a bit embarrassed. "I feel a bit funny otherwise; like I am half naked or something. I never was much into dresses."

Harry almost laughed, but pulled the robes over his head. They smelled slightly of lavender, or some other flowery scent that he automatically and unconsciously always associated with Hermione. Luckily she was about the same size as him, and school robes had very little differences between male and female styles, not that it would have mattered to him at that point.

"Thanks," he said.

They headed off at a jog, knowing every minute countered. Somehow, professor Dumbledore made it to the entrance of the maze before them.

"Can you get in?" asked Harry, ignoring the rising hubbub of the crowd filled bleachers when they saw him.

The professors and several other wizards were working on the wards, sending currents of magic into the invisible wall surrounding the hedge maze. Inside, the champions would not have any clue what was going on, since the task was designed to prevent outside interference or help.

Dumbledore gave Harry a penetrating and slightly reprimanding look, but answered anyway.

"Unfortunately, not quickly," he said. "Fawkes was forced into a burning while attempting to traverse the barrier, and Phoenixes are notoriously hard to guard against. It would appear a lot of time was spent preparing this trap."

"I can get in," said Harry. "It's keyed to let me in, just like the other champions."

Dumbledore nodded, silently agreeing.

"Harry, please step over the boundary, and cast red sparks into the air. The original design of the ward should then allow somebody to enter in order to remove you. I will enter, and attempt to reach the other contestants."

Harry nodded and ran forward, ignoring the sudden shout of a few of the wizards working on the wards that did not hear Dumbledore's request.

He felt the cold shock of the ward wash over him like he was stepping through a wall of water. All outside noise suddenly stopped, leaving an almost painful silence in its place. He could still see the others nearest him outside, but they faded out the further back from him they were, disappearing into impenetrable darkness less than a dozen metres away.

Raising his wand above his head, Harry fired red sparks into the air, and waited. Nothing happened for a minute, so he tried again. Still nothing happened, so he walked back out of the maze.

At least, he tried to.

His wand and hand banged into the suddenly solid ward, bringing him up sharply. Outside, he could see Dumbledore casting furiously, and Hermione standing helplessly behind.

Suddenly the invisible wall ballooned out and enveloped him, pulling him through before popping like a soap bubble. The return of the noise felt like a canon blast to his ears, and he fell to his knees.

"It would appear more extensive changes have been made than I anticipated," said Dumbledore. "I was only able to get you back because you were so close."

"I have to go back," said Harry, standing up. "I have to go in and try to warn them, while you work on it out here."

Professor McGonagall immediately began objecting. The other headmasters joined her, along with the Minister of Magic. They started arguing about the best way to stop the task, or even if to stop it at all, since they were working on the information provided by a raving lunatic.

Harry ignored them and kept his eyes on Dumbledore. There was no twinkle in the old man's eyes as he looked back, only a glimmer of profound sorrow.

"I can provide you with several Portkeys," he said. "I believe the wards will not prevent them from exiting. If you can get one to each champion, they will be taken out of danger."

Immediately, more yelling and arguing ensued, with only the Bulgarian headmaster, Karkaroff, raising a valid objection to Dumbledore's plan.

"If he somehow manages to catch up with Viktor and the others, they will not accept a Portkey from him," he said. "They will automatically suspect him of trying to stop them, even if he carries something to prove what he says is true."

"Then I guess I'll just have to stun them and stick the Portkey on them when they are down," said Harry, with a lot more confidence than he felt.

More objections and accusations flew, but Dumbledore was already working, turning a handful of stones scooped up from the ground into Portkeys.

"They will activate one second after you hold one in your hand and say the trigger word," he told Harry, "or if you touch them with a wand. I have set the trigger word to 'safety'."

Harry nodded, taking the rocks and placing them into various pockets of Hermione's robes. The others were still arguing, but Hermione stepped forward and grabbed him in a hug before he could get away.

"Be careful," she said.

"Don't worry," said Harry, trying to sound cheerful. "This is perfect. If I get in there and save the others, I'll be a hero. There's no way anybody could get away with cutting me up to stick under a microscope after this!"

Hermione laughed, but it was forced. She knew he would do it anyway, regardless of whether it would help him or not.

Harry stepped back and half turned towards the barrier before turning back to her again.

"Thanks," he said. "For everything."

Hermione nodded, unable to talk lest the tears filling her eyes burst out.

Harry jogged calmly through the barrier, prepared for the sudden drop in sound levels this time. He continued on to the hedges, but turned back for one last look before entering the maze.

Ginny stood next to Hermione, tears running freely down her face. She held his replacement clothes to her chest. Dumbledore stood next to them, watching Harry, while the others apparently hadn't yet noticed he had left and were still arguing.

Harry raised his hand and gave a small wave, getting weak return waves from Ginny and Hermione, and a respectful nod from Dumbledore, then he turned back and ran into the maze.


	6. No Reprieve

It took several twists and turns of the maze before Harry came across the first sign of the other competitors. While the maze walls shook and moved around about every ten minutes, it appeared they only had a few configurations.

The burnt and scorched grass ran for several metres down a path. Clearly somebody fought something in this corridor, and probably then proceeded down it.

Harry sprinted along, confident the way forward was cleared by the person in front of him. He occasionally cast the Point Me spell, which tugged his wand north, and took the turns that headed towards where he felt the centre of the maze lay. He was assuming the other contestants would follow a similar plan, but it didn't really matter.

If he could get to the centre first, he could wait there for the others, and stop them from touching the cup.

Suddenly he turned a corner and nearly crashed into a glowing, see-through wall of light. Sliding to a stop he considered going back to a previous turn, but then he noticed the ground at the base of the wall looked churned up, as if it was recently disturbed. It was the same on the other side. It looked similar to the garden beds at the Dursleys after he dug in mulch and manure.

Understanding flooded Harry and he quickly started casting digging spells he learned during Herbology lessons the previous year. The looseness of the ground helped, and he soon excavated enough to make a shallow trench under the glowing ward.

Wasting no time, he crawled under the wall, being careful not to touch it. A fold of his cloak did briefly connect though, and instantly disintegrated.

Sweating as much from nerves as effort, Harry shimmied under the rest of the wall and out the other side. He didn't bother filing in the hole, like the previous person did, figuring anybody coming along behind was welcome to the short cut.

A moment later the hedge on either side shimmered, as if a breeze was rushing through. He could hear movement all around him, despite the noise suppression spells that kept sound from travelling far, and the walls suddenly flexed threateningly around him.

When the movement stopped a second later, the layout was different. Cursing at the inconvenience, but happy the change did not occur while he was under the magical barrier, Harry cast his Point Me spell and chose the path closest to the direction he needed to take.

Further down the new path he found more burn marks, and a strangely frozen small tree. It was encased in ice, and creaked loudly. With a start he realised it was a small Whomping Willow, and it was breaking out of its cold prison!

Harry rushed past; sure he was on the path of a contestant.

Time passed in a blur of twists and turns. Here and there he came across more signs of the others in the form of disarmed traps, and he could tell he was getting closer to the centre where the cup waited.

Passive traps and barriers like ward walls and huge mud pits gave way to more dangerous obstacles such as flying spears and spike-lined pitfalls. Harry never missed his specially charmed robes more than when a burst of flame burnt through a sleeve to scorch his arm painfully.

Even with all of the practice and training of the last few months, and with some of the path already cleared, it was still hard going.

As he jogged forward, a faint wailing sound, completely out of character for the maze, began to make itself heard. Stopping to listen, he realised it was weak crying, like somebody in pain.

He sprinted forward, dashing around the corner to find Fleur laying face down on the ground. Her robes were tattered and bloody, and mud and dirt made the girl almost invisible on the churned up path.

"Fleur!" called Harry, bending down to roll her over.

She was barely conscious, with bruises and welts covering her face, and half of her hair burnt away, again. She stopped crying and groaned loudly as Harry rolled her over. Her arms flayed out, as if she was trying to escape but didn't have the energy to move anymore.

"Hold on," Harry said, digging into his robes for one of the Portkeys. "I'll get you out of here."

Fleur moaned again and let her head loll to the side. Harry grabbed the stone and was about to activate it, but stopped, looking at the tormented girl. He leaned over and grabbed her face between his hands, calling her name and trying to revive her.

Her eyes fluttered and eventually opened. They were glazed and unfocussed.

"Fleur, we got him," said Harry. "We caught the man who murdered Gabrielle."

"Gabrielle?" mumbled Fleur.

Then her eyes rolled back in her head and she lost the battle to stay conscious.

He gently placed the stone on her chest and touched his wand to it. Light immediately enveloped her, and then she suddenly shrank, as if being dragged into the distance.

Harry stood up, and came face to face with the creature that caused Fleur's injuries.

The Blast-ended Skrewt was considerably larger than the last time Harry saw it during one of his visits to Hagrid. With armoured chitin shell, and huge scorpion-like pincers, it was half a ton of nightmare, and it was coming straight for him.

He had no time to think of a plan, he knew running wasn't an option, not when the creature could shoot forward on a blast of flame like a rocket ship. Not many of the spells he knew would penetrate that armoured hide either, making killing it a huge, if not impossible, job.

The levitation spell was the safest way to overcome it, if a person was powerful enough to lift such a huge beast, but Harry panicked and didn't even try.

"_Imperio!_" he cast, waving his wand wildly in its direction.

Immediately he was involved in a battle of a different sort.

The simple but fierce mind of the Skrewt was nothing like that of the creatures he practiced on. Angry dogs had nothing on the sheer rage of the monster. It hated him, just for existing, with a passion greater than anything Harry imagined the ugly brute was capable of.

He clamped down on the rising tidal wave of the beast's anger, then mentally dug his heels in and fought to control it. It fought back, mindlessly and with great fervour, but Harry had too much to lose to give in. The stubbornness that sustained him since the start of the tournament rose to the fore, fortifying his will against the pure hate of the Skrewt, bracing him as he threw everything he was into the battle.

Slowly he gained the upper hand, forcing his mind and magic into the fight, holding nothing back.

Slowly the beast gave ground, its anger starting to dim in the light of Harry's determination.

Slowly he took over the Skrewt, bending it to his will, mastering it.

With a last brutal heave, he completely dominated it.

Opening eyes he did not remember closing, Harry was treated to the unfortunate sight of a close up view of one of the most horrid creatures ever to grace Hogwarts. It stood, pincers raised ready to strike him down, not two feet away. Obviously it had managed to keep moving forward during their struggle, and would only have needed a second more to have cut him to pieces.

Harry yelped and slid backwards, almost losing control as the shock distracted him. The Skrewt raised it pincers higher, but stopped as Harry reasserted his control. Mentally, he ordered it to walk backwards and lower its deadly claws, giving him some breathing space to contemplate what to do now.

Originally he acted on instinct, casting the most powerful spell he knew, and it probably saved his life, since very little else could have stopped the Skrewt as effectively. A rush of pride in his accomplishment filled Harry. It had, after all, apparently overcome the Beauxbatons champion without suffering any visible damage, but he had beaten it with one spell.

Then again, maybe that's why it was so angry. Maybe Fleur did hurt it, before it finally got her.

Now Harry had the tiger by the tail, and wondered what to do with it. The answer was so obvious he didn't see it at first. Standing stupidly as the seconds ticked away, he considered sending it into one of the many traps he had passed so far. Hopefully one would incapacitate it. The danger was that the Skrewt would simply waltz through the trap and then come back looking for him.

That was when the answer finally came to him.

It could lead the way, springing and disabling any traps and driving away any other creatures. It was hard to imagine anything else in Hagrid's menagerie that could challenge the armoured behemoth. With the Skrewt leading him, he could easily catch up with any other champions.

Grinning stupidly, Harry ordered the Skrewt to turn around, then realised the danger of walking behind a creature that could rival a Dragon's breath with emissions from its behind. He had little choice, since it was almost as wide as most of the corridors of the maze, and climbing up onto the scaly back was not an option.

Ordering the Skrewt forward, he took a position as far back as practical. There might be a hiccup or two, but Harry was fairly certain that the race to the centre of the maze just got a whole lot easier for him.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry cursed himself for his stupidity.

His Skrewt trail breaker was working better than he hoped, many creatures scrambling out of the way as soon as they caught sight of the rumbling mass loping towards them. Most of the traps and tricks shattered as soon as they came in contact with the creature, barely gaining its attention for more than a second or two. Even deep pits crumbled when the weight of the Skrewt stood on one of their sides, and its scrambling to get out the other side dug long ramps that Harry could easily climb up.

The only problem was that it was still taking too long. Without the assistance of furnace-hot blasts from its rear end, the Skrewt was actually quite slow. It was not build for long distance travel at any pace above walking speed, and the maze was proving quite difficult to navigate. He knew he had half circumnavigated the maze so far, but had still not seen any of the others.

The sight of his monstrous companion blundering into a corner and tearing a large chunk of foliage out, started Harry's self-berating. There was a much quicker way, and he hadn't thought of it until now.

Ignoring the path ahead, Harry ordered the Skrewt to aim directly towards where he thought the centre of the maze lay, and then push its way through the barrier. It was slow going at first, the magical plants proving more resistant that any normal bush should, but then the Skrewt began hacking and slashing with its pincers, using them like giant shrub trimmers.

The hedge immediately started repairing itself, new shoots darting out across the gap and leaves sprouting almost as fast as the Skrewt demolished them.

Harry leapt through the rapidly shrinking hole before it became too small, and fell onto the ground of the path just in time to see his Skrewt plough through the next wall, and then the one after that. It had the hang of it now, and was moving almost as fast as it did without obstructions.

Catching a flash of light out of the corner of his eye, Harry turned to see what caused it, and was thus saved from the majority of the curse's effects.

The bludgeoning hex slammed into him, spinning him around and knocking him down. Harry hit the ground painfully and lost his wand. He tried to roll away, but pain and dizziness made it an impossible task.

Victor Krum's foot came down on Harry's hand as he reached for his wand, pinning it in place.

"You 'af done vell to get this far," said the Bulgarian, in barely understandable English. "But this is vere you stop."

His robes were barely dirty, and showed no signs of damage beyond a torn pocket on one side. Harry figured he wasn't the only one who thought to prepare his robes before the task.

Krum raised his wand.

"Do not vorry," he said, mistaking Harry's look as fear for whatever spell he was going to cast. "I vill not stun and leave you. I shoot sparks into air vith your wand after you sleep."

"Wait," croaked Harry. "It's a trap."

Krum hesitated and Harry pushed on, hoping to convince the older boy.

"Somebody, a Death Eater pretending to be a professor, rigged the cup to explode. It'll destroy everyone in the maze. If you make it to the middle, don't touch the cup. Tell the others."

Krum frowned, and Harry wondered if his English was up to the task of understanding Harry.

"It's true," he said, slowly sliding his other hand into a pocket as he talked. "Fire sparks up, nobody will come."

Krum hesitated and lowered his wand a bit, possibly considering the motive behind Harry's words.

"No," he finally said.

"Please," begged Harry, his hand closing around one of the smooth rocks Dumbledore gave him. "You've got to warn them. Don't touch the cup, just wait for somebody to come and take you to safety."

As Krum raised his wand again, Harry brought out his hand to drop the Portkey into the torn pocket, giving him a push at the same time. Krum swore and grabbed at the rip, but suddenly disappeared in a similar flash to the one that took Fleur earlier. The last Harry saw of Victor's shrinking face was a look of absolute incredulity.

Harry wasted no time. He grabbed his wand and scrambled to his feet, but he was too late. The hole in the hedge had disappeared, leaving him with no shortcut.

Swearing, he set off in a limping trot, heading the same Krum was before they met. Hopefully, the famous seeker was onto something when Harry blundered across his path.

No sooner had made his decision than the wave of change again passed through the maze, moving everything around again.

Swearing even louder and more energetically didn't affect the greenery at all, but it did make Harry feel slightly better.

There had to be a way to get through the maze quicker, a spell that would let him blast through the walls like the Skrewt was probably still doing. He tentatively fired of a few cutting curses, putting more and more power into each successive cast, fuelling them with his growing desperation.

The branches grew back as fast as he could cut them.

He moved onto bludgeoning spells like the one Krum hit him with, and had better success. With a few precise blasts, he made a hole just barley large enough to squeeze through. Fighting through took too long though, and the hedge tangled his already injured foot as he fell out, twisting it painfully.

Cutting his tangled foot out took a long time, and Harry knew he wasn't going to get far this way. Just as he finished, the maze moved again, a new wall springing up directly in front of him.

He swore rather loudly, again, but it had even less affect than last time.

There was another spell, one that was too powerful for Jim to demonstrate, and too unsafe for Harry to practice often, and never indoors.

It was called Fiendfyre.

Ridiculously difficult to control, it summoned the element of pure fire and gave it form. Properly used, it could scythe through the hedges like they were butter, but if he made a mistake, it could just as easily turn on him and reduce his unprotected body to a pile of ashes.

It was the only thing Harry could think of.

Casting the Point Me spell and peering at the stars to make sure he was facing the right direction, Harry paused a moment to gather his concentration. He mentally grabbed his aches and pains, his fear and anxiety, and his uncertainty and worry, and pushed them from his mind, burying them under a layer of calm that he required for control. This was one spell he didn't need a lot of emotion to interfere with, not if he wanted to keep it small. As soon as he felt ready, he raised his wand and prepared to begin the incantation.

"Harry?"

The voice startled Harry so badly he nearly dropped his wand.

Cedric stood near a corner, obviously having just rounded it to come upon Harry. He looked a bit worse for wear, with robes as badly beat up as Harry's, but appeared uninjured, if worn out.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Harry took a second to find his voice.

"Cedric! Thank Merlin," said Harry, rushing forward.

Cedric's wand brought Harry up short.

"That's close enough," said Cedric. "I've already been blindsided once tonight."

"Krum?" asked Harry. "He nearly got me too. Let me guess, he stunned you and left you behind?"

"Petrified," corrected Cedric. "He apologised and fired sparks into the air with my wand, but nobody came. I managed to break the spell, but it took ages."

"Cedric, the maze is a trap. A Death Eater, the same one that killed Gabrielle, filled the cup with Erumpent fluid. If anybody grabs it, it will explode and level the maze, killing us all."

Cedric gulped.

"You're kidding," he said.

"I wish I was. That's why nobody came to collect you; the wards are keeping everybody out. Professor Dumbledore and the others are trying to take them down, but nobody knows how long it is going to take," said Harry, searching his pockets. "He gave me some Portkeys we can use to get out, but we've got to stop Harry, the other Harry. He's the last one."

"What about Viktor and Fleur, and why is the other Harry in here?"

"I've managed to get them both out, and the Death Eater tricked the other Harry into taking my place," Harry answered, digging into his other pockets.

Harry suddenly stopped.

"What's the matter?" asked Cedric, seeing the frozen expression on Harry's face.

Harry slowly withdrew his hand from his pocket. There were only two stones in it. He lost the other ones somewhere, possibly during his tangling in the hedge, and there was no way he could hope to find them now.

"I've only got two Portkeys left," he told Cedric. "And there are three of us."

"That's all right," said Cedric, surprisingly appearing to accept Harry's word for everything. "One Portkey can take more than one person, so long as they are both touching it or holding onto each other. Besides, if worse comes to worse, we can get to Harry, stop him from touching the cup, and then we all just wait it out, right?"

"Right," agreed Harry, trying to sound confident. "That's what we'll do."

Cedric nodded and looked around at the newly reconfigured maze.

"So," the older boy said. "Which way?"

#

Harry had little practice working as a team, but Cedric proved to be resourceful and skilled. Between the two of them, they managed to bludgeon through the walls of the maze, conjuring bracing to keep the hedges back long enough for them to both to cross through, and surprisingly quickly made their way to the centre. It was only a few walls away from where they met.

Cedric stepped through the final gap first, simply because he was less injured than Harry and was better able to help him through from the front.

The clearing was quite large, and in its exact centre stood a black marble pedestal. On top of it sat the Triwizard cup, filling the clearing with a bright silver glow. It was a magnificent and welcome sight.

"So, do we call it a draw?" asked Cedric, smiling.

"I'd race you to it," laughed Harry, "but if either of us gets there, neither of us wins. I've heard Erumpent fluid tends to leave a mark."

"What do we do now? Just wait?"

"Got a better idea?" asked Harry, starting to slowly limp towards the cup. "Harry will show up, sooner or later, then we can convince him not to touch the cup, and all go home."

"Don't get too close," he warned, when Cedric came up next to him. "Just get somewhere Harry will see you if he gets here, and make sure he doesn't touch it or do anything that might set the Erumpent fluid off. Stun him if you have to, but I don't think it'll come to that. Once he sees me he'll stop, because he thinks I ran away before the task started."

"You are going to have to explain all of this while we wait," said Cedric.

A horrifying roar from the direction of one of the four entrances to the central clearing startled both boys.

"I hope whatever that is doesn't decide to come visit," said Cedric.

"I think I've met him," said Harry. "He took out Fleur before I managed to get control. I had to use the Imperius curse."

Cedric looked startled at Harry's casual mention of the unforgivable.

"Trust me," said Harry. "It's the only reason I am here now."

"That's pretty Dark," said Cedric. "But I can understand it, so long as it wasn't on a person."

"Don't worry," said Harry. "I have no intention of going through all of this just to end up in jail. Hey, I was about to use Fiendfyre when you stumbled onto me. I was going to burn my way through to the centre. That's a fairly Dark spell too, but doesn't involve any laws I know of."

"That," said an unexpected voice from the empty space to their left, "is possibly the most suicidal idea I've ever heard. Brilliant, but suicidal."

Both boys turned to see the real Harry Potter suddenly shimmer into view. He was obviously able to cast the Invisibility spell Golem-Harry and Hermione failed to get working.

"Harry," said Cedric in relief.

"Harry," said Golem-Harry at the same time.

"Harry, Cedric," said Real-Harry. "That's going to get real confusing, real fast."

"Well don't even think about calling me Garry," said Golem-Harry, getting a confused look from both of the other boys in return.

Real-Harry looked almost as good as Krum, his robes having survived everything the maze threw at him with barely any damage. His hair was messed up, and some dirt smeared his face, but he looked well.

"The cup-" began Golem-Harry.

"I heard," said Real-Harry. "I was right behind you as you came through the last wall, but I wasn't sure it wasn't some sort of trick."

"Moody was a Death Eater," said Golem-Harry.

Cedric looked shocked.

"Knew he was hiding something," said Real-Harry. "So how do we get out of here?"

"I've got Portkeys," said Harry, reaching into his pocket for the final Portkey.

Cedric already had the other one and beat Harry to the draw, holding out his stone for Real-Harry to see.

"Everybody grab on and let's get out of here," the older Hufflepuff boy said.

Before either Harry could do it, a loud roar erupted from one of openings, and a Skrewt lumbered into the clearing. All three boys spun and pointed their wands the creature, temporarily forgetting the Portkey.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_," they all shouted at the same time.

The Skrewt let out an undignified squeak as it was heaved up into the air and span around wildly. Unfortunately, its automatic reaction was to let rip with a tremendous blast of fire from its nether regions.

Fire belched from the Skrewt's back end, bathing the clearing in flame and overpowering the levitations spells. The boys threw themselves to the ground out of the way, cowering under the superheated blast of flame shooting overhead.

The Skrewt rocketed into a wall and bounced off, rolling to where the boys lay. Real-Harry leapt to his feet and fired off a spell, but it deflected off the Skrewt's armour without slowing it at all. Cedric scrambled to get away, but was caught in the continuing blast of fire pouring from the rolling beast.

He screamed as the flame touched him, and then suddenly disappeared in a muted flash of light.

Golem-Harry raised his wand and managed to hit the underside of the Skrewt with a blasting curse. The less armoured side of the beast wasn't able to deflect the spell as well as the upper side. It let out a definite grunt of pain and stopped rolling, teetering on its side legs.

Real-Harry fire off another barrage, trying to push the thing onto its back, but the Skrewt managed to get its legs under it and righted itself.

"Move," yelled Real-Harry, dashing to the side of the Skrewt so that they were separated.

Golem-Harry scrambled to his feet painfully, just in time for one of the huge pincers to slam into him. He felt at least two of his ribs crack and his arm went numb from the blow, but at least the open side of the sharp claws didn't catch him.

Head spinning and almost completely out of breath, Harry fought off the blackness of unconsciousness to watch the real Harry Potter enter into battle.

If he was ever in any doubt about the tales of the boy's skill and power, there was now no way he could refute any claims.

Real-Harry ducked and darted, avoiding pincers and rocket powered charges by the enraged beast. An almost continuous stream of spells flew from his wand, even as he moved. Most of his spells had no effect, but every now and then one would dig deep into a joint or weak spot of the creature, eliciting a bellow of pain.

Slowly but surely, Harry potter was wearing the Skrewt down, all by himself.

Watching the amazing display of skill, Golem-Harry began to believe that Real-Harry was going to win, but then a second Skrewt suddenly rushed into the arena.

He had no time to shout a warning.

The second Skrewt dashed in at rocket speed and clamped Real-Harry in its claws. Caught by surprise, Real-Harry screamed as the pincers crushed him. They couldn't cut through the magically enhance robes, but that wouldn't matter if he was squeezed to death.

Golem-Harry did the only thing he could think of; he summoned the Fiendfyre.

A massive burst of volcanic flame burst from his wand, growing larger with every passing second. Harry threw it towards the Skrewt crushing Real-Harry, roughly aiming for the base of the pincer holding him.

The flame mutated into a rolling wave, changing shape as it flowed onwards. Ethereal shapes took form in the leading edge, Dragons and unicorns forming and fading away before the flame struck.

Despite being made particularly fireproof, the magical fire cut cleanly through the pincer and continued on, passing through the front of the Skrewt without slowing, killing it instantly.

Real-Harry fell to the floor, no longer screaming, and likely unconscious.

Then Golem-Harry lost control of the spell.

The flame turned back on iself, again slicing through the corpse of the Skrewt it had already slain and spreading out to twice its original size. The second Skrewt dashed away, only catching the very edge of the expanding wave of fire. The force of the magic lifted it into the air again, tossing it over like a leaf in a breeze.

Golem-Harry tried to stand, but his injured leg throbbed and refused to take his weight.

The fire rolled onwards.

He got his hands and one good leg under him and half crawled, half leapt out of the way. The heat burnt his leg as it passed by, and the ground under him ruptured in a fountain of dirt, sending him flying into the air, just as it had the Skrewt.

Harry landed painfully on his wand arm, and clearly heard the unnaturally loud snap of his wand as it buried itself into the ground, still gripped in his hand.

The fire hit the wall of the maze, but didn't continue through. It almost seemed alive as it writhed against the hedges, setting them alight in bursts of light and small explosions of sap, then it rolled off the now black, partially destroyed wall and picked up speed.

Heading directly for where unconscious Harry lay, still caught in the grip of the decapitated pincer.

Golem-Harry couldn't do anything, not without a wand. Real-Harry was going to die, killed by the very flame Golem-Harry cast to try to save him.

He couldn't let it happen.

With a below, Harry tore his pocket open, grabbing the last Portkey, and dredged up every ounce of his strength.

"Safety!" he yelled, throwing the stone at the unmoving figure a few metres away.

The stone struck its target scant feet in front of the Fiendfyre, and Harry Potter disappeared in a flash of light.

The Fiendfyre rolled onwards, climbing into the air like it was a rearing horse, then abruptly began folding back down on itself, dimming as it dropped. By the time it reached the ground again, it was nothing more than a dull glow that quickly faded out completely.

Harry sighed in relief, and then noticed movement from the other side of the clearing.

The Surviving Skrewt rolled over, scrambling to get upright on the remainder of its crushed legs. Harry automatically raised his broken wand and tried to cast a bludgeoning curse at the creature before it could make another run at him, if it could, after the enormous damage caused by the Fiendfyre.

A weak spray of sparks fluttered from the shattered holly.

Harry groaned. The pain from his toasted leg was becoming unbearable, and the odd angle of his other foot foretold its inability to carry him anywhere. Desperately still clutching the useless wand, he started dragging himself toward the scant cover of the pedestal holding the explosive filled Triwizard cup.

Another movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Scurrying through one of the many holes burnt through the hedge, the enormous spider-shape of an Acromantula distracted Harry from his pain. It paused just inside the clearing, as if surveying the area for likely prey.

Behind it, Harry caught the shape of a Dementor gliding along, possibly drawn to the commotion, or more likely, attracted by his despair. He didn't know there was one of those in the maze, but at least he wasn't feeling the numbing aura of fear, yet.

There was no help coming, no timely rescue by concerned parents and guardians. The real people were safe, whisked away to safety by Dumbledore's Portkeys; the urgent and immediate need to break the wards no longer existed.

The Skrewt bellowed in rage and pain, temporarily gaining the attention of the massive spider and its silent companion. One incredibly painful inch at a time, he continued dragging himself toward the centre of the clearing.

Ever since he started believing the only way he could gain back at least a semblance of dignity and respect was to win the tournament, he had driven himself like never before. The days of non-stop researching, the weeks of forcing himself through physical training bordering on torture, the months of relentlessly practicing spells both powerful and subtle, all came down to this: minutes from death, crawling brokenly towards the feeble protection of the pillar the cup rested on.

Completely out of place, he suddenly caught a whiff of a flowery smell he unconsciously associated with Hermione. Despite the masses of burning material around him, including much of the robes themselves, he again smelled the lavender-like scent. It was oddly comforting, like she was there with him, as she had always been.

The glow of the cup lit the nightmare scene eerily, bathing the monsters in its glorious glow and promise. It was scant feet from him, at chest height, if he was standing up, but just like his hopes and dreams, it was completely out of reach.

Screw that.

Fierce rage exploded in him. There was no way he was going to die on his knees. No overgrown spider or stupid beetle was going to finish his story.

With a titanic effort of will, Harry dragged himself upright, and lurched to his feet unsteadily. Ignoring the tentative steps the spider was taking towards him and the rumbling of the dying Skrewt as it started another pain-maddened charge, Harry shakily stretched out the remains of his wand.

He refused a fate of being shredded by beasts or dissected by the Ministry. He refused to leave this world quietly and forgotten. He was a Triwizard Champion, and they would respect that, if nothing else.

"Accio Cup!" he cast, putting as much effort into the spell as he could.

The Triwizard Tournament trophy flew straight towards his waiting arms. Reaching for it, he smiled -- victorious at last.

The explosion levelled most of the maze and lit up the sky over Hogwarts, bringing a bright false dawn to herald the passing of the thing once called Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived.

Eternal glory indeed.

**Finite Incantatem.**

_A/N - Yes, it is complete. It was always planned to end here, something like this. Depressing, I know, but you should have expected it by now, if you are at all familiar with my stories (the twists, mainly)._

_I will likely post a separate story of the omakes and cut bits, so don't despair if you really hated this ending, there might something there you can use instead._

_Blame the guys at AFC for encouraging me to make this bunny into a full-blown fic. Their help was invaluable._

**Boy Who Lived and Chosen One are not neccessarily the same person. The prophecy didn't say when the chosen one would be marked, or how, and it might not even be true. Hell, since I never gave you the prophecy for this AU, you don't even know exactly what it says (although it would be silly to change it and not tell you. Silly, and cruel :) )**


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